King and Lionheart
by Queentakesjack
Summary: Whether it is a lost brother, or a dead lover, when you lose someone important to you, it is difficult to open your heart again to someone else. This is what made the thief and the king alike most of all, if only they would realize it. OC/Thranduil. Hobbit timeline. Rated M for safety. OC/Thorin Friendship.
1. 0 - Their Prologue

**King and Lionheart**

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 **Summary:  
Thick as thieves in all sense of the word. Arielle and Bellamy were a force when they are together, but separated they have become lost. And Middle Earth is a dangerous place to be lost in. OC/Thranduil. **

**Disclaimer: ** I don't own anything or anyone from the Hobbit/Lotr series. I also don't claim to be most knowledgeable about the lore Tolkien has created, and I must warn all the super canon Tolkien fans out there, that this story won't completely follow the mannerisms and customs of the Elven culture. I'll try my best, but in order for this to work, I need to make it a little AU, and a little OOC. Also I appreciate corrections in the elven language. There aren't many reliable translators or dictionaries.

 **There are a lot of other OC pairings in the story, I apologize for that. There are very few canon relationships that I like in the Tolkien universe. One I particularly don't like is Tauriel's forced romance with Kili. They made her character just for a love triangle with Legolas, and to me, I felt it was a great waste of her amazing character, seeing as she is the only female elf in the movies who is a warrior. Anyway, there are a couple definite pairings I want to do, though the main one IS Thrandy and the OC Arielle. I do plan to do an OC/Kili, but it's going to be brief. And I have been toying with the idea of Thorin and an OC, but I'll see how you guys feel about it before I make it a reality.**

 **Anyway, I have already written the first five chapters of this story, and they will be posted within a couple of days of each other. I Ask that you please review, so I know if people are actually enjoying the story.**

 **I also want to point out that this is the first time I've written a LOTR fanfic, so I ask to be easy on me with criticism. I'm not an expert on the lore, as I've stated in the Disclaimer.**

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 **PROLOGUE**

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"Yesterday night, one of London's oldest jewellers, Durin & Sons, was broken into. However, the only things that were stollen were the soul contents of a single safety deposit box in the safe rooms in the back.

"Investigation is still going underway, but Chief Police Anderson has stated that the video footage had been tampered with prior to break in, implying it was a planned heist. The items in the safety deposit box were two antique rings that have been with the Durin & Sons family for generations, though the items' value have not been mentioned, it is still yet unknown why these particular items were the only ones stolen.

"There has been an increase of robbery and break-ins in the last five years, most suspected to be by the notorious thieving duo, Graves and Griffin. The break in of Durin & Sons is heavily suspected it to be the work of Graves and Griffin, who are still on England's most wanted list.

"Bellamy Graves, formally Bellamy Martin, is an adult white male of twenty-nine years. 6'3" tall, muscular built, with dark blonde hair and green eyes, and various tattoos on his arms and neck. Arielle Griffin, formally Jane Smith, is an adult white female of twenty-seven years. 5'5" tall, slender build with dark brown hair and blue eyes, with no visible tattoos or markings. Both Graves and Griffin were raised in the former Wool's Orphanage in downtown London, and therefore have no known relatives.

"If you have any information and whereabouts of these two, please contact the number below. Graves and Griffin are considered to be dangerous, likely armed, and experts at deception. Please be cautious and keep on eye on your home and belongings."

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 **Character Casting will be posted in the next chapter. I will also be posting the link to the Pinterest board of all the pictures in my profile.**

 **Happy Readings xoxo**

 **QTJ**


	2. i - Her Unexpected Journey

**King and Lionheart**

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elleth = female elf  
ellon = male elf  
ellyn = plural male elf  
ellith = plural female

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 _Emilia Clarke_ (brunette) as Arielle Griffin  
 _Jai Courtney_ as Bellamy Graves  
 _Jerome Flynn_ as Alf  
 _Oona Chaplin_ as Maeleth Greywater  
 _Melissa McBride_ as Dera  
 _John Geraghty_ as Guthbrand

 _More casting will be revealed in the next chapter._

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 **CHAPTER I**  
 _Her Unexpected Journey_

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' _Day 402 -_

 _I can't believe it's been over a year since I last saw you, Bells. Well, a year back on Earth, but here? I don't even know. If I asked, it would surely make me stand out more, which isn't my forte, as you know._

 _402 days of regret… I wonder often what would have happened if we weren't so foolish to meddle in things we didn't understand. We always dreamt of a world bigger than the shitty one we were born in, but we never thought about the cost of it, and_ where _we would end up._

 _I miss you, brother. I wish I knew where you were…but I wouldn't even know where to begin.'_

Arielle looked down at her index finger where the moonstone orb caught the light from outside the tower. It had been so beautiful when she first saw it, but now the only thing she saw in it was nostalgia and remorse. If she could pull out the cursed ring, she would have a long time ago, but it was practically glued onto her finger. However, the ring wasn't entirely a burden, it did keep her alive and thriving in Middle Earth; without it, she would have been dead the moment she woke up in that spider-infested forest.

Still, without Bellamy, it wasn't worth it. As an orphan, Arielle was born into this world alone, but was lucky enough to find someone she could call family in the shadow of her miserable childhood. Just when things were going their way, however, her only light was pulled away from her. She supposed that was karma, after all; they were warned countless times to not go finding the rings. Oh, and they were notorious thieves, so that probably is a good enough karmic reason to work against them.

"Oi, still writin' in that book o' yours, elleth?"

Arielle sighed irritably and looked up noncommittally at Alf, the unofficial leader of thieves in Rohan. Well, that's what he liked to fancy himself, but really, he was a collector of lost souls, and he put those lost souls to work. Then reaped the benefits. Alf continually reaped the benefits of Arielle's work ever since he found her stumbling through Mirkwood, trying to evade a spider the size of a small horse.

"Can I help you, Alf?" She asked, sticking her quill in the last page she was writing in and closing it. She hated the fact that no one actually called her by her name, always referring to her by her race: elleth, elf, she-elf, etc. It's been so long since the discovery of this sudden change of species, but she was never used to being referred to it. Alf, as well as the others, were also not used to having a rogue elf in their leagues, but they weren't complaining at all. She was, after all, the best thief in Rohan. That was of course, with a little help with the ring that vibrated on her finger, but Alf didn't need to know that.

"I got job for ya: someone made the mistake of sellin' the deed to some land to one o' your kind. Later found out that he got ripped off… Wants the deed back, and he'll pay us what he got paid for it." He leaned against the doorframe, looking around the circular room of the tower that had remained the same crumbled way since Arielle moved in.

"Where do I have to go?" She ask, shoving the journal into her pack, and corking the ink bottle.

"I'm sure yer familiar with it: Mirkwood forest," there was a grin in his voice, contrasting to Arielle's deep frown when she turned to him with a look of disapproval. "Fancy a trip back home, luv?"

"Mirkwood is _not_ my home," She stated pointedly. Arielle spent the past 402 days avoiding that forest like the plague; ever since she woke up on the ground with pincers clicking above her, it was enough to drive anyone as far away as possible. "Send someone else."

"Y'see, I would, _but,"_ he tilted his head and gave an exaggerated frown, "Yer the only one that could pull this off. It's not exactly in a place tha's easy to get to."

The elleth wore a deadpan look as she stared at the middle age man, then sighed heavily through her nose. "It's in the Elvenking's Halls, isn't it?"

He touched the tip of his nose and then shook his finger at Arielle, "Y'got it, luv. The ellon who bought the deed is named Tharnor. Black hair, sinister face, looks pretty young, but the bloke swears he's about 4000 years old."

"That doesn't entirely narrow it down; I can't exactly go around and ask everyone there if they know who this Tharnor is," the look that Alf gave Arielle made her roll her eyes. "I can't speak any Elven tongue, save for a few phrases, so that is not an option."

"I still find that odd," Alf changed the subject. "How is it an elleth your age doesn't know a lick of her own language?"

"You have no idea how old I am," Arielle pointed out, and then quickly went back to the issue at hand. "Do you have any more info on this ellon, or do I have to find out myself?"

"He is part of the Elvenking's court," Alf shrugged.

"You continue to make this easier for me, Alf," Arielle sighed, and crossed her arms as she stood up. "Any idea where I should start?"

He sucked his teeth, and she could see the gears in his head rotating, " _Well_ , it certainly won't help ye goin' blind in there. I may know someone who is willin' to help. They happen to have a wee bit of a grudge against the Elven Prince, Legolas… May be willin' to help us."

"What's in it for them?"

"Guess we will just have to ask, now, won't we?"

Before the day was over, Arielle had her horse packed and ready to go. By nightfall, she and two other seasoned thieves were ploughing through the Brown Lands, heading north to turn a two day ride into one. Arielle was supposed to meet the Elleth named Maeleth at High Pass before she entered the Mirkwood and was welcomed into the Elvenking's kingdom. To make the trip seamless, they had to meet her before she entered at the allotted time she was expected.

Dera and Guthbrand road behind Arielle as they crossed the humid and muddy territory of Gladden Fields. The thief cleared her head of Guthbrand's complaints at the difficulty of the ride through the mud and water of the marshes; in her mind, she was just determined to get to High Pass on time. If she had a choice, she would have gone alone, but Dera and Guthbrand were insurance to make sure she made it there in one piece and wasn't attacked by bandits, or worse.

They only stopped once at a fork in the Great River to bathe off the mud and allow their horses to rest. Arielle squatted near the shallow end of the river, splashing the water on her face and then pulling it into her hair while her horse drank beside her. When the water settled with only small ripples from the wind, she could see her reflection; something she seldom saw. Her hair seemed darker than when she first arrived, and she suspected it was because she rarely bathed anymore. She also got thinner, muscular and leaner, though her high cheekbones were not a result of that. Almost every elf had high cheekbones, and so when she found herself an elf, she noticed this facial difference. Her ears, though, never ceased to amaze her. Or her eyes, that seemed more vividly blue, but the appearance wasn't what intrigued her. Arielle could _hear_ better, and see as if peering into a spyglass. Her only regret is being a race that is often prejudice among men and dwarves. There were some, namely girls, who looked at her like a celebrity or some kind of deity, and then some men looked at her like a novelty prize. The rare moments that she have been in the presence of her own kind, they look at her completely different; a traitor, a ruffian, basically the same way they look at men, but with the added disgust of realizing that she was their own.

After the horses grazed, and the three ate hard bread and cheese, they left before the sun could reach the trees. It was only thirty miles to Old Ford, where they would meet the Elleth, and by then it would be dusk.

They reached the bridge with hours before the sun to set; it helped that their horses weren't running on empty stomachs, and neither were they. Arielle could see three figures standing on the other side of the old bridge, looking alert. There weren't many noblemen, elven or no, that took the Old Forest Road. It was dangerous even for thieves like herself, but it was also the only road that meant that no one important would witness the meet up.

"You must be the rogue," An elleth with deep brown hair, olive skin and dark eyes approached on her horse. The horse, like her, was slender and rustic looking with a coat like milk chocolate and black socks and muzzle. The mane and tail were black, or appeared to be black, and was long and wavy like her rider's.

"Arielle," the younger elleth led her horse in front of her. Her own horse wasn't so impressive; it was grey and spotted and reminded her a lot of smoke and ash, which earned him his name; Ash. He was still reliable, though, her only constant companion in replace of Bellamy.

"Queer name," the other stated, "It sounds Nandorin, but I have never heard of it. What does it mean?"

Arielle sighed impatiently through her nose, "It means Lion of God."

"Which god?"

The younger elleth looked impatiently at the horizon, "We don't have time for this. I'm going to assume you're Maeleth Greywater."

"We have plenty of time. We aren't expected at the Forest Path until dawn," Maeleth smiled at Arielle, and promptly ignored Guthbrand's tirade at the news.

"Are y'telling me that we hauled our arses here for absolutely fuckin' nothin'?" His red charger pawed the ground aggressively, feeling his riders impatience. Dera, who always kept her emotions in check, merely looked a bit annoyed, though the look was directed at the younger irritable thief.

"Not for nothing," Maeleth stated with a smile of ease. Or mockery. "It would take some preparation time before we went the Elvenking's realm. I needed at least a few hours to—" She looked at Arielle up and down, her smile dropping a bit as she flinched at the state of her. " _Prepare."_

Arielle looked slightly offended by the look that Maeleth gave her; she prided herself on her looks, if this was 403 days ago, she would have looked as sharp as these elves always seemed to be. Though thieving was a cleaner job back on Earth. " _Prepare?"_ Arielle repeated with a tone of suspicion. "I thought you were just going to point a finger at where I needed to be?"

"It isn't that simple, little lion," she tilted her head as if she were talking to a child. "The Elvenking of Mirkwood is notoriously suspicious of strangers, and ever since the Greenwood has been infested with darkness and foul beasts, he has been even more cautious and protective of his kingdom. It doesn't matter how well you are at disguising yourself in the shadow, you will be caught, if not by his guards, than by him himself. Besides, you forgot you owe me for this favour, and therefor need to listen to what I tell you to do."

 _I really hope the money is worth it,_ Arielle thought bitterly. If the client thought he didn't get enough money in exchange, what made him think the money he would give us in return of his deed would be enough for her trouble? Unless Alf wasn't telling her something, which isn't much of a stretch, in which case she would surely grind him for more than he said he would give her.

The six riders left the bridge to find a less exposed area to set camp for the next seven hours. Just at the mouth of the forest, hidden behind a fallen tower. It gave enough cover from travellers, but kept them alert enough from the dangers of standing on the border of the poisonous wood that they camped next to.

Guthbrand was the first to fall asleep once his head hit his bag on the floor. Dera sat near the fire, keeping quiet as she normally did, but kept a weary eye on the foreboding forest that hugged our clearing. The other two elves sat opposite of her, talking to themselves in their native tongue, of which Arielle had no understanding. Maeleth took notice to that.

"Do you not speak any elven tongue?" She asked, her eyes wide in curiosity. Arielle noticed how often Maeleth's eyes were wide, as if everything was curious and fantastical to her. It was a bit unsettling.

"No. A few phrases in Sindarin, I believe. I'm a pretty pathetic version of an elf," the joke was self-pitying, though true. It wasn't meant to be funny, but Maeleth laughed all the same.

"My apologies, little lion. I have not met an elleth like you before… Though, I must confess, your lack of knowledge of the basic language of your own people is rather strange, and in our case, inconvenient."

"You have yet to fully explain your plan," Arielle reminded her, trying to divert Maeleth's attention to the more concerning matter, rather than the thief's incompetence.

"As I've stated before, the Elvenking will not take liking to a stranger… My companionship would surely ease his mind by your arrival, but if only you look the part," She gave a quick glance at the other's attire and hair. "Unfortunately, I have my work cut out for me. I was intending to say that you were a friend I took to while my stay in Rivendell, but this is far more difficult."

"Wouldn't your host at Rivendell would be curious to find out you acquired a companion on the short travel between there and Old Ford? Surely a letter would be sent by Thrandiul under suspicion of a fourth company, wondering if the half-elf knew of me at all."

"I suppose we have to make a story, don't we? One that would explain your appearance, your lack of knowledge of your own, and my interest in your well being," she crossed her legs on the rock she had been seated on, looking rather unlady like, though since Maeleth was dressed in riding clothes, under her skirt were tights and long boots. Though in Arielle's point of view, Maeleth didn't appear to be the proper elven woman. At least, that was the impression she got.

"If it helps, Alf found me running through the edge of Mirkwood, with a giant spider at my heels," Arielle explained, then quickly added before she could ask. "I have no memory of my life before that moment."

"Curiouser and curiouser, you are, Arielle," she smiled at the enigma sitting across from her. "That does help, for it is the truth none the less. Instead of fabricating a lie that could possibly be seen through by those ancient eyes of the King's, then stretching the truth is far more promising."

"You realize you have yet to tell me anything, at all, of what I'm being thrown in to," Arielle stated matter-of-factly. "Not of what the favour you need of us is, or _how_ I'm supposed to get the deed, or—"

Maeleth began to laugh, "Forgive me, being vague is one of my many short comings. The favour you are returning to me is of a personal matter. I believe Alf has told you that I have a… _vendetta_ against the Greenleaf prince, am I right?" Arielle nodded, and the oldest elleth continued. "It goes deeper than that, I am afraid. During the end of the Second Age, my aunt, Faervel, was quite smitten with a certain Elvenking. My grandfather greatly supported her fancy quite a bit; after all, Thranduil _was_ the king, and having a daughter as a queen was what all fathers can only dream of.

"Thranduil _did_ show Faervel interest, and courted her for the entirety of her visit in the Woodland Realm. Needless to say, her fancy blossomed and she assumed it did with the Elvenking as well. On her departing day, he promised her that the next time she returned, he would marry her, and to seal the promise my aunt had given him a token that was given to her by her mother. My grandmother sailed west three centuries past at the time, so the token wasn't given away lightly; Faervel sealed her heart and happiness in it."

"What was the token?" Arielle asked, intrigued by this story that sounded so much like a fairy tale of a princess.

"A pendent with a stone that is said to embody the sky above Valinor," Maeleth's words sounded like longing. Behind her brown eyes was the soul of a child recalling a beautiful rare flower that she has only seen in a dream. Arielle found a sort of pity for her, because while looking at her, Arielle could see Maeleth's one vulnerability. She was an age, at least, though in front of her, Arielle saw a young soul.

Maeleth continued with her story, which was by now being eavesdropped by the two ellyn and Dera who remained awake. "My aunt returned to Mithlond, intending to return to Thranduil in a quarter of a century after she had finished her studies. Though it only took a little over a decade for the Elvenking to forget about her and found another."

"The Queen, I presume?"

Maeleth nodded, "Faervel didn't take the news of Thranduil's marriage very well… Being that she had given both her heart and happiness, and he disregarded it as I'm sure he did with the pedant. She was not content with living in this realm any longer, so Faervel set sail to the West, though it was greatly protested against by my father — her brother — since she was still very young in the eyes of elves. However, she went anyway, but a great storm took her ship and all those with her. Faervel's body was taken into the ocean, though her soul remains unrest. The Havens could feel it in the wind, and it has been most potent in the last year."

Arielle hadn't expected the sad tale when Maeleth began; she had assumed it was some kind of tale about revenge and resentment against Legolas and his father. Which reminded her, "What does the prince have to do with this?"

"That," she sighed, tilting her head and her eyebrows raising to her hairline. "Is more personal. In our youth, he humiliated me by promising to take my hand in marriage, and then left me waiting for him at the stables. We planned to elope, despite our parents disapproval."

Arielle couldn't help but smile, "It looks like a pattern is intwined with your family and the prince's. What do you want me to do about your broken promises?"

"Legolas," she sighed again, though heavily and quite annoyed, "Is my problem alone. I had only mentioned this to your guild master, so he will believe that I am willing to betray my own kin's trust, so long as he provided me with a thief for the pendent. I heard that he has greatly _matured_ over the course of the last millennia, though I greatly doubt it." Her eyes rolled at the memory of the prince, and then returned to Arielle. "What I need of _you_ is to steal a second item along with your deed, and that is pendant that Faervel gave to Thranduil. I intend to bring it back to the Havens and sail west to where my aunt's ship disappeared, and return her heart and happiness. This should bring her soul to a rest, and could finally continue her journey west in peace."

Arielle remained silent as an unsettling wind blew from the trees, coating her exposed arms in gooseflesh. She remained still as she stared into the deep brown eyes of the other elleth. "I'll do it," she said at last, easing the tense shoulders of the older.

Maeleth smiled, her lips reaching from ear to ear, "I knew there was something in you I could trust."

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 **Well, there's the first chapter. I'd much appreciate feedback, because I put a lot of effort into this series. I mapped it out quite well I think, and this includes many backstories for my OCs and dynamic relationships.**

 **Also, be sure to check this story's pinterest board linked in my profile to see character images, and item images from the story. With every chapter, more images will be put in to go along with it.**

 **Happy readings xoxo**

 **QTJ.**


	3. ii - Her Uncomfortable Familiarity

**King and Lionheart**

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 **Lirimaer -** _lovely one  
_ **Arwenamin -** _My Lady (Familiar)  
_ **Lanner -** _wide one._

 _*Notify me if I've missed any words to translate*_

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

 _Emil Andersson_ as Faeldir  
 _Michael Tintiuc_ as Gwaedhon  
 _Lucky Blue Smith_ as "Baby Blue"  
 _Lily James_ as Elanoriel

 **Author's Note:**

I wanted to give a huge, huge thank you to those who favourited and alerted this story, as well as my first reviewers, Lil Miss Sunshine14 , xXWhispersInTheWindXx & SparklesJustReads. Your feedback really means a lot. I hope chapter two is to your liking!

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 **CHAPTER** **II**  
 _Her Uncomfortable Familiarity_

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' _Day 404 -_

 _We are at the Forest Gate, Bellamy. You wouldn't believe how magnificent it is… I feel like beyond it I would walk into Narnia, and that isn't a far-off speculation considering where I am._

 _It's been a long year, and I haven't been my self since we were separated. This is a_ real _job, like the ones we used to do back home. But you were always the charismatic one; lying for you came so easily, and I was always jealous of that. The roles are somewhat reversed… I have to play the role of distraction_ and _be the hands._

 _I'm also in a dress, and I'm sure you'd find that quite amusing, seeing as I haven't been in a dress in… I don't know, probably my baptism. Even_ you've _been in a dress more times than me, and yes I am counting the time you wore a kilt during that summer._

 _Still… I can't help but think this would be infinitely better if you were here. I'm surrounding by strangers with difficult-to-pronounce names, being forced to learn things that were once fictional to us._

 _Maeleth and I have made a story for me that sounds like something you'd make up back at the orphanage. I am an elf who's parents murdered by territorial goblins along the High Pass; they hid me, bundled up in a tree before the goblins could find me, and that is where passing merchants found me and raised me as their own in Rohan. Though a hundred years passed, the men who raised me long ago died, and now I walk aimlessly with no direction of where I have come from. It's not so short of the truth, really._

 _Of course the part of the goblins is just the background story for insurance, should things get forced to be delved back somehow. As far as anyone knows, I was an abandoned elfling in a tree raised by men, and Maeleth and her company found me running from hungry orcs on the Carrock on her way to the Forest Gate. She decided to take me on as a surrogate sister, or ward, upon realizing how little I know of my kin._

 _Despite it being a near-lie to my actual state, it still feels like an appropriate origin story for me. Walking around the guild stating that I had lost my memory in Mirkwood's Enchanted River was growing tiresome, and most people were starting to see through that. At least Maeleth shows no interest on my actual origin.'_

"What are you scribbling there?" Came a voice over Arielle's shoulder, startling her and causing her to snap her journal close. She had chosen charcoal in favour of ink and quill then, since it was easier to travel and write with on the road.

Maeleth ticked at the state of the thief's fingers, which were now black from nail to second knuckle. "We just gave you a bath, and now you risk entering the Woodland Realm with fingers that I'd imagine a necromancer would have."

"That's flattering," Arielle stated as the older elf took a cloth and soaked it in the river before returning to her 'ward' and scrubbing her fingers clean.

"At least you didn't get the dress dirty," she sighed after realizing she couldn't get her fingers as clean as she wanted to. Arielle would have to live with dirty finger nails.

Once they had arrived of the Gates, Maeleth took Arielle aside to change. She had given her a dress of her own, while she dressed in finery fitted for her arrival. Faeldir and Gwaedhon, Maeleth's company, remained in the travelling clothes. Arielle was only grateful it was just them, and Dera and Guthbrand had left the hour they departed for the Forest Gate. If they had remained, she wouldn't hear the last of it from Guthbrand.

Compared to the brown-haired elleth, Arielle was a dim light. The only thing that stood out from her was her eyes, and her toned and slightly muscular physique in contrast to Maeleth's slim and hour-glass perfection. The older elleth had given her one of her own dresses; a plain midnight blue, a white gold sash and accents with a square neckline. It was probably the prettiest things Arielle had worn in the last year, though it paled compared to the flowing regal purple dress that Maeleth wore. The sleeves reached the bottom of her skirt, she had a golden belt and accents as well, but when she moved it was like she was floating and the skirt of her dress was billowing in the wind.

Maeleth made quick work of Arielle's hair as well; brushing out the tangles took the longest, but once it was in wide waves cascading down her back, Maeleth plaited her hair in a loose braid to crown her head. It wasn't as complex as the many single braids that decorated the older elleth's hair, but it was quite the feminine change from before.

Arielle looked at her reflection in the river, blinking at the unfamiliarity of it. It's been so long since she actually looked presentable, and clean for that matter. It was like she was an entirely different creature: more like an elf, less like a sewer rat.

"Such a transformation," came the masculine voice of Gwaedhon, though his tone sarcastic and slightly mockingly. Both Arielle and Maeleth sent the raven haired ellon a sour look that was so incredibly identical that it took him off guard. He cleared his throat, "You wouldn't even be able to tell that we pulled her out of the mud, away from the clutches of orcs." It was pretty obvious that the ellon did not approve of their fabrication, but being that he was bound by his lady, there was nothing he could possibly say in the matter.

Faeldir gave his friend a disapproving look at his rudeness before smiling at Arielle, "You are very beautiful, Lady Arielle. Transformation," he gave the older ellon a pointed look, "Or no."

Arielle offered the blond elf a smile, "Thank you. But you shouldn't call me 'lady'; I have no title to my name."

"A title, you have!" Maeleth suddenly said as she hoisted herself onto Rochael, her mare, with the help of Gwaedhon. "You are my ward and therefore, a lady. You shall be Lady Arielle Lionheart, the one who was raised by man."

"Bit of a mouthful," Arielle commented, swatting away Gwaedhon who was attempting to hoist her up onto Ash. "Arielle is fine," she added as she sat on her side like the other elleth. It was difficult to keep her balance, but she knew it wouldn't hear the end of it if she sat with both her legs on either side.

Once the ellyn were on their mounts, the four trotted over to the massive Forest Gate that loomed over them. The trees curved their branches into an arch, while the longer branches tangled together to shield the pathway from those who were not invited. As the sun peaked over the forest horizon, the sound of hooves beyond the path could be heard. Arielle's stomach tightened in anticipation.

Within a moment, the branches curled in on themselves and opened the gate, introducing the party behind it. There were three to meet their four, and when the guards saw there were one extra than they anticipated, an obvious look of confusion crossed their faces. The three guards were blonde, with identical hair styles and identical clothes. It was difficult to tell them apart, save for very minuscule differences.

The one in the centre was slightly taller than the other two, and his eyebrows were darker than his hair, and framed his vividly blue eyes. Arielle decided to refer him to Baby Blue, since she had no intention of remembering names of most of these elves. She still had a difficult time pronouncing Gwaedhon's name.

"Maeleth the Greywater?" Baby Blue asked, and the elleth smiled in greeting. "King Thranduil expected a company of three, not four."

Maeleth kept her kind and polite smile on her face as she turned to me and back at the three guards, "Our journey from Rivendell was an adventurous one. I have much tales to tell that include my new friend _and_ ward."

"Ward?" Asked one of the guards.

"Arielle the Lionheart," Maeleth stated much to the thief's chagrin. "Of Rohan."

Baby Blue shared a look with his companions before turning to the lady, "We have no heard of an elleth by that name, nor news of her being your ward."

"It is as new to me as it is to you and your king," Maeleth smiled soothingly, which seemed to ease the guards a bit. Arielle envied the elleth's natural talent of making people feel at ease, though she couldn't help but feel it was like being lured in by a siren. There was a storm behind those kind brown eyes, and Arielle did not envy the person that got caught in it.

"Very well, you are gained entry to the Woodland Realm. Though we must escort you to the King for you to tell him your tale and of your," Baby Blue nodded towards me, "new ward."

Their trek along the Forest Path was depressing; it was obvious the evil poison that reached into the forest. The path was narrow, and Baby Blue kept reminding their guests to remain on it and not stray, and to stay away from the river that ran as black as some of the trees.

"I do not remember the forest being in this state," Maeleth commented within an hour of trotting carefully through the path. "It was greener, and during the autumn it was alive with the colours of the setting sun."

Arielle didn't comment; she was sure that Mirkwood was glorious once, but the only version that she saw it was the state it was now. While the Forest Path was blessedly free of webs and creepy crawling things, it still left Arielle's hair stand on end. There was a cold breeze coming from somewhere, and the air felt humid and sticky, but the sun was completely blocked out by the thick black branches of the dying trees.

The ride to Thranduil's kingdom was five hours long, but it was only on the fourth hour that the trees began to look alive and well. The closer we got to the Elvenking's Halls, the livelier the Woodland Realm seemed to be. Warmth peaked through the green leafs, shading the ground in vivid colours of the high afternoon, and thus eased the gooseflesh on Arielle's skin. The air was now breathable and less polluted and now she could hear birds in the trees. It was then that Arielle truly felt she was in a fairy tale, but when she reached the entrance of the Elvenking's Halls, the breath was taken from her lungs.

" _Wow."_

The main entrance was cavernous in height, then slender in width. It was about three stories high and twenty-five feet in width and framed with branches in celtic knots until they met at the centre top, where it formed the stag's antlers. The entrance was on the side of modest mountain of stone, smaller from their view on ground, but probably massive should Arielle climb on top of the trees for a better look.

There were two smaller entrances on either side, big enough for horses fit through. When the company of seven reached one, the guards dismounted. Arielle was too transfixed when the grand doors began to open that she barely recalled Baby Blue and his two identical side kicks had told Maeleth that their belongings will be brought to their chambers.

Inside she could see glittering cobblestone on the floor that shone like gold and silver and reflected against the cavernous halls of the Elevenking. She felt Ash move, but didn't realize it wasn't her that pushed him foreword but one of the guards who took her reigns and led the horse inside. They stopped just inside on a grand platform that over looked the vastness of the kingdom, which to Arielle, looked like a totally different world.

"Jesus _Christ,"_ Arielle found herself saying out loud.

"Pardon, my lady?" The guard asked from below her. Arielle blinked down at him, wondering when he got there.

"Nothing, excuse my idle chatter," she told him, her voice lost as much as her eyes.

" _Maeleth!"_ the shout took Arielle off guard and she quickly jumped back into the conscious world. Her head snapped to where it came from, in time to see a presumingly teenage elleth running down a staircase from the far right with a wide smile on her face and wearing a crown of white lilies.

Maeleth's face broke into a big grin as she allowed Gwaedhon bring her down from her horse. When the two girls met they embraced and twirled in utter happiness. It made Arielle ache for her own reunion with Bellamy; she felt her own heart mourn at how utterly lost she was in that moment.

"My lady, are you well?" Faeldir asked from below her, and Arielle diverted her attention to the golden haired ellon offering her his hand.

She nodded with a sigh, but put on a fake smile before taking his hand and allowing him to gently pull her off her horse. Maeleth was still embracing the younger elf as she talked in a tongue that Arielle wished she understood. The little elleth suddenly caught Arielle's eye in an exchange of awkward confusion. All the latter could do was stand there with her hands folded on her lap and smiling politely until Maeleth remembered that she existed.

"Oh! Excuse my excitement," She held the young girl's hands as she pulled her towards Arielle. "There is someone who I'd like you to meet. Arielle, this is my cousin, Elanoriel. Elanoriel, this is my new ward, Arielle the—"

"Arielle," the thief quickly said, hell bent on making sure that new name dies out before it lives. She bowed her head in greetings to the girl, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Elanoriel."

The elleth smiled and bowed as well, "A pleasure as well. I had not known that my cousin had taken a ward since the last we conversed…. I have not seen her since my twenty-fifth birthday when I departed for the Greenwood."

Maeleth draped her arm around the young girl's shoulders and looked proudly between her and Arielle. "Elanoriel is my mother's niece… Once she was my mother's student, and then mine when my mother departed west. Though all birds must leave the nest…and this bird wanted to make home with her father in his homeland. "

Arielle didn't much care for Elanoriel's reasoning for her being in Mirkwood. Truth be told, she could do without the backstories of characters that she wouldn't even remember once she left this place. All she wanted to do was find what she needed and leave as fast as possible. Never the less, she smiled and nodded, not entirely knowing what to say.

"How long have you been Maeleth's ward?"

Arielle lifted her shoulders and gave a half smile as she shared a look with the older elleth, "About a quarter of a day?"

Maeleth laughed, "Sounds about right." She turned to Elanoriel suddenly, "If I am correct, your next birthday comes soon, does it not? I do hope your father is making you a coming out party, for 50 is an important year for an elleth."

 _She's fifty years old?_ Arielle furrowed her brow, wondering if she was, indeed, the youngest elf within a two-hundred mile radius. She was just a little over half as young as Elanoriel, yet the girl seemed like she was sixteen at most. How old would that make Arielle if she put her actual age in the age of elves? She knew that she had to say that she was a little over a century old, but she doubted that scratched the surface of the age she should be. _How old a 27 year old elf equivalent?_ Arielle looked at Maeleth for a moment, realizing that she seemed to be her own age in appearance, but with elves, she had no idea. Everyone looked like they were in their mid to late twenties, and only the elders looked to be in their thirties.

After the two cousins finished their catching up, Maeleth suddenly remembered that she was needed elsewhere. With a great sigh, she kissed her cousins hands, "I am afraid I must go see the Elvenking, _lirimaer_. Tell my uncle I said hello, and that I will see him at the feast this evening after all is settled."

The petite wheat-haired girl nodded, her brown eyes that matched her cousins met with Arielle in a wide grin. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Arielle. I hope we can become friends during your stay, and that you attend my party."

The thief nodded with a smile that she forced to look genuine, "Of course. I am honoured you allow me to attend."

"Oh, of course! Any friend of Maeleth is a friend of mine, and is welcomed like family."

" _Arwenamin_ ," Baby Blue interrupted. "Your horses are in the stable, and My Lord Thranduil is awaiting you in his throne room."

"Right, of course," Maeleth smiled and took Arielle's hand and linked it in her elbow. "We mustn't keep the Elvenking waiting."

After they bid a final farewell to Elanoriel, they were led down the steep stairwell and then onto a bridge, where Arielle could see a great dome made of glittery stone and root. She assumed that this had to be the throne room, since only kings were that pretentious to have an entire room the size of a 5 story cooperate building just for a chair. Rich people never ceased to amaze Arielle, and she spent much of her life sneaking into their homes and stealing valuables they likely forgotten they had.

"My cousin seems to like you quite a bit," Maeleth answered as the two followed behind Baby Blue. Gwaedhon and Faeldir were excused to their rooms they would share in the servants quarters, so they could change from travelling gear to something more suitable as a guest of Thranduil's halls.

"Forgive me for sounding rude, but it isn't your family's fondness for me I need to concern myself with," she gave the elleth a side glance as she whispered this to her, hoping that their escort hadn't heard them.

Maeleth rolled her eyes, but her smile kept on; there was very little that Arielle could say that wouldn't wipe that smile off of her face. It was rather annoying. "Fair enough… I hope you are ready, because we are here."

The archways hung over them as they pass through; it was vast and open, and you could see much more of the Halls inside from the room. A bridge of stairs connected the platform they stood on and led to the dais where a massive throne, rival to that of the Iron Throne in _Game of Thrones_. It was crowned with elk antlers from an elk likely bigger than any horse Arielle has ever seen. The throne itself was engraved with the elvish style of knotted trees, but Arielle's view of the magnificent throne was obscured by the one who sat in it.

 _He sits on it like it's a Lazy Boy,_ Arielle mused, imagining a big puffy green recliner. Sure, he was just as radiant as the chair, but Arielle held no appreciation to physical beauty than she did with things. She was a thief, after all, and she recognized valuable items more than she recognized valuable looks. It wasn't until they stood before the dais that Arielle _actually_ had a better look at King Thranduil; she found herself a little uncomfortable at the familiarity in which his face gave him. She couldn't quite place it, but he reminded her of someone that she knew and it bothered her as it teetered on the tip of her tongue as to who.

Arielle was so caught up in digging in her memory of who he reminded of her of, that she didn't even register that the king was glaring daggers at her. It wasn't until Maeleth began to speak that Arielle became _painfully_ aware of the unnerving eye contact that the Elvenking got her in. She had the sudden urge to throw herself off the bridge, as long as it would break the eye contact.

"My Lord Thranduil," Maeleth said as she bent in a deep curtsey, and when Arielle didn't follow suite, she gave her a sharp nudge with her elbow. Reluctantly, Arielle bent in a curtsey as well. When Maeleth rose, the thief joined with some unbalance. "It is such a pleasure and joy to be here in your realm after so long."

Thranduil smiled, his unnerving gaze softening as it was casted to Maeleth. He rose from his throne, his deep green robes falling over his body completely, and with his crown her looked larger than Arielle had anticipated. His arms extended after he stepped down from the dais, his smile turning into a grin as he enveloped Maeleth in a hug as if they were old friends. Arielle supposed they were, though she supposed it would be like an uncle she barely talked to after a family fall-out. "It has been a long time, _poikaer._ I must confess, I did not know if I were see your face here again after what my son had done to you all that time ago."

Maeleth laughed, but knowing her story, Arielle was certain it was forced. "I do not old grudges on boys who do boyish things, my lord. I have matured and I am certain that Prince Legolas has as well… I look foreword with reuniting with him, hopefully as friends."

Arielle desperately wanted to smirk at Maeleth's statement. It was said as if she was speaking through her teeth in contempt, though the King didn't seem to notice. If he had, he didn't care to show that he did.

Arielle bit the inside of her cheek in an attempt to remain as still as possible, but in her mind she listed a thousand and one snarky comebacks should she have reason to use them. Just when she thought she was invisible, those venomous eyes were back on her, and Thranduil had pulled himself away from the embrace. He suddenly turned back into that haughty king that she first saw reclined in that stupidly large chair.

"And who, pray, is this, Maeleth? I was under the impression that you were only bringing your footmen. I heard no word of a fourth companion," his eyes trained on Arielle, and she could feel the suspicion oozing from his pupils. It made her mouth go dry and her stomach shrivel up like a prune.

But there was Maeleth, a smile on her face as she reached for Arielle's arms and pretended that the King wasn't looking at her like he was judging her sins. "My Lord Thranduil, I do apologize, but my friend and I had only just met along the road not even a day ago."

This made his head snap to her, his tone changing to stern and reprimanding, "You blindly bring a _stranger_ into my Halls, Maeleth?"

Her smile did drop at that, but not out of anger or discontent, but of worry. It was true what they said about the Elvenking of Mirkwood and his temper, and it even reached into the worries of people as mentally strong as Maeleth. "My apologies, again, King Thranduil," she bowed. "Though I wouldn't have taken a stranger as a companion, unless it was of importance."

His chest puffed as he sighed, and with his shoulders square he returned to his throne and looked down upon the ellith before him. This action alone gave an even more sour taste in her mouth; she did not like him, she did not like the self-righteousness that radiated off of him. King or no, Arielle did not respect nor _understood_ why anyone could think themselves above anyone else.

"What importance does this…" he drawled as he peered at Arielle. " _Lanner_ have that it _must_ disturb the sanctity of my realm?"

 _Oh, my god, he did not just call me fat,_ Arielle was internally fuming. She was vibrating in her spot, trying her hardest not to blow off her top. Maeleth must of sensed that she was about to burst, since she linked her arms with her and put a hand on Arielle's forearm in an attempt to calm her down.

"My Lord, this is Arielle," Maeleth, too, had a tone that she was not at all content with his insult towards a stranger. Though, under the circumstances, she had to hold her own. "Gwaedhon and Faeldir had rescued her from an orc chase in the Carrock. She was disarmed, weak, and was a fraction away from becoming a victim of those… _vile_ creatures," Arielle was both impressed and taken back by the emotion Maeleth put behind her story. If she didn't know any better, she would believe it too.

"Is this true?" The question was directed to Arielle, who merely nodded in response. She was too scared of her own tongue to give a snark-free response. "What was a lone, youthful elleth like yourself doing in the Carrock in the first place?"

Arielle's mouth open, but she turned to Maeleth, not sure if she was going to respond for her. She nodded with a smile before she muttered 'go on' in a gentle response. It seemed like Arielle had to swallow down her condescension and actually talk civilly.

"I have been alone my entire life, my lord. As an infant I was found in an eagle's nest by travelling merchants from Rohan; they took me in, and raised me as their own. Though this has been over a century ago, and so their mortality had taken them. I have been on my own ever since."

"You were raised by men?" He questioned, eyes narrowing. "That certainly explains the smell and filthy fingernails," he muttered and Arielle clenched her jaw so tightly, she thought she might crack a tooth. He shifted in his seat, draping his leg over his knee, "However, that does not answer my question."

"It was a unwise choice on my behalf, that I know," Arielle said in a tight voice as she contained her sass. "After spending so long not knowing who I was, I attempted to travel to Rivendell. I thought it wasn't that long of a journey, and I foolishly convinced myself that I would make it alone as long as I had a sword and bow; I was obviously mistaken. If it weren't for the arrival of Maeleth and her men, I would surely be dead."

"You surely would be," He rolled his eyes in indifference by the story, which only made the annoyance in Arielle grow larger. "Your foolishness _is_ forgiven, because of your youth and your upbringing… and under Maeleth's wisdom and care, you are allowed sanctuary in my realm until your lady departs back to the Grey Haven."

 _I didn't realized I needed your permission to be Maeleth's friend, but okay, King Eyebrows._ Arielle swallowed her words and bowed, "Thank you, My Lord."

"Mmm," he gave her a bored side-glance and then waved his hand uncaringly, "You are dismissed to your bedchambers. Be sure to _bathe_ and ready yourself for the feast; I will not be having an elleth smelling of men in my realm any longer."

Maeleth was quick to grab Arielle's arm, feeling that her new friend was about to launch herself at the king. With a smile she bowed and forced the thief to do so as well, and bid the king a farewell.

The two were promptly escorted to their bedchamber, which was two rooms connected by one lounge room that overlooked the vastness of Thranduil's kingdom, and gave a nice view of the glorified chair that Arielle had come to loathe. She glared at it from above, hoping that by the sheer intensity of her stare alone it would catch fire, and the asshole who sat upon it.

Once they were alone and the doors closed behind them, Maeleth turned to Arielle and smiled broadly, "Well, that didn't go that bad, did it?"

" _I hate him,_ " was the direct response she got before Arielle flew into her bedchamber and flung the doors closed.

* * *

 **Well, there's chapter two! I hope it was good, since it was probably one of my favourite chapters out of the six I wrote so far. If anything is confusing, please specify what it is so I can try to clear it up in via personal message, or in the next chapter.**

 **Reviews is much appreciated, as this is a new story and I'd like to know how both new and old readers feel about it. Also be sure to check out the pinterest board I've made for the story that I update with every story. The link is in my profile.**

 **Happy readings xoxo**

 **-QTJ**


	4. iii - Her Loose Tongue

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **usquener** _ **-**_ _Smelly One  
_ **ada -** _Father  
_ **ion nîn -** _My Son  
_ **Ernil -** _Prince  
_ **Ernil nîn -** _My Prince  
_ **Dinaer -** _Silent One  
_ **Lirimaer -** _Lovely One  
_ **Mellon nîn** _\- My Friend  
_ **Dess** _ **-**_ _Young Woman_

 _*notify me if I have missed any words to translate*_

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

 _Miles McMillan_ as Tharnor

 **Author's Note:**

I want to thank everyone again for alerting this story. I've just finished chapter six, and I starting to work out all the kinks of the story, especially Bellamy's side. Chapter Four and Five will be about him, though, but a majority of the story will always be with Arielle.

 **Also question, does anyone want me to make a list of how to pronounce some of these names? Let me know :)**

* * *

 **CHAPTER III  
** _Her Loose Tongue_

* * *

The dinner feast is what Arielle had expected to be, though she was still not prepared for it. It wasn't often that the realm gathered to eat together, though the arrival of Maeleth after nearly an age since last visit had given them a reason to gather to eat, drink, and dance.

Arielle had suspected all elves to hold themselves with dignity and integrity, as the way man had painted them with such envy. However, for the most part, it was the complete opposite. The working class and common folk were as free spirited in a party than any human would be, if not more gracefully. The nobility, royalty, and the court of the king held themselves to a higher standard. Sitting with them was easy at least, though Arielle couldn't help but look jealously at the joyous elves that were free to be themselves.

At least she had wine, which she happily drank in silence.

On her left was Maeleth, as always, and on her right was the ever curious Elanoriel, who had, much to Arielle's chagrin, been her constant conversational companion. Once the young elleth had learned of Arielle's "origin story", it was like one question after another. Arielle wasn't prepared for the Spanish Inquisition, so a lot of her questions were only half truths, though many she had to think on the spot. Her only worry was remembering all these white lies.

"I cannot imagine living entirely with men," Elanoriel began. "My father is all the masculinity I could handle in large doses, though growing up along _four_?"

"It is not so different to having sisters, I'd imagine," Arielle said, but mostly to her goblet. "I mean, I've never _had_ sisters, but I'd imagine the same amount of hair pulling would be involved."

The older elleth didn't know whether or not Elanoriel actually understood the joke, but she laughed all the same. Were elf siblings were as human siblings? Arielle didn't quite know, since most elven couples really only had one child. Elanoriel was an only child, despite her parents being thousands of years old, but she had a lot of cousin. Arielle supposed that Elanoriel laughed because the young one thought the idea of men to be charming, as she has never met one. In a way, it explained the questions, but it didn't stop Arielle's growing impatience. It was starting to make her feel like a novelty or an oddity of interest and the spot light was getting on her nerves.

"What were your brothers' names?" she asked suddenly, "You've never mentioned."

"Uh, well," Arielle put the goblet to her lips, trying search in her mind names she wouldn't forget. "Severus," She stated immediately, and then quickly added, "Sirius, and Remus. And my 'father' was named Albus." Desperately Arielle wanted to laugh at her choice of faux names for her faux family, but instead she covered her mouth with her goblet again.

"What curious names," Elanoriel smiled politely, "I have not heard such names before. Though," she laughed softly, "I have not met men before."

"You are young," Arielle forced herself to say, "You will meet many in your long life a head."

"Have you met many? You are only fifty or so years older than me, yet you have experienced so much more than any elleth your age that I know of."

"I've met a lot of men, dwarves, hobbits, even, and unfortunately I have met orcs, though we barely shared a few words," it was perhaps the sweet wine that had loosen Arielle's tongue a bit. Of course, she was talking about the past year she had been living in Middle Earth, though Elanoriel didn't need to know the details of that.

It didn't seem to bother Elanoriel of Arielle's loose tongue, though it seemed that her voice got somewhat louder, and gained the ear of two other elves. One was the elleth at Arielle's left, the other was the Eyebrow King himself.

"There was one time me and Al— Albus —," Arielle quickly corrected herself before she was noticed. "Stumbled upon a Troll hoard just south of Dunland, though it was not abandoned, let me tell you," she raised her hand as an ellon came by to refill. "I haven't smelt anything like that troll, it was _absolutely_ putrid. I am still half certain that it had a festering wound in it's gut that was surely home to some disgusting creature."

"How perfectly _horrid,_ " Elanoriel put her hands on the table, a look of disgust and intrigue on her face. "What did you do?"

Arielle opened her mouth to answer the truth, but caught herself before she could. She couldn't dare say that they looted the hoard of it's valuables and cut off the troll's head in the process. "We ran before it could wake up," she cleared her throat.

"That is quite the tale, _usquener,"_ drawled the voice of the one elf that Arielle wished would not speak. When he did, it seemed to end with an insult that many dared not bat an eye too.

"Quite the tale in deed," there was nothing holding back the bite in her tone as she replied, nor the condescending smile that followed.

By the grit in Thranduil's jaw, he wasn't impressed by the stranger's attitude, though he remained as he was when he asked, "How old were you when this occurred, I wonder? If your guardian was alive then, you could have been not much of a child."

Even in her state of mind, she new that Thranduil was trying to catch her in a lie, though it wasn't one. The only thing she hid from that story was a single name and the ending to it. Regardless, she was careful not to allow that single story make a hole in her entire one. "Men are taught to bring up their children very differently… Albus had no experience with elves when he found me, so he raised me like he did his sons. At twenty-five, I was a fully grown woman to him."

"Yet, you were not; not in the eyes of your kin," Thranduil countered. "It was foolish of him to bring you into such dangerous territory."

"As I said…" Arielle placed to goblet in front of her, not caring to repeat herself as it was a great pet-peeve. "In his eyes, I was not. He imparted wisdom to me, and believed that I was capable of rearing his teachings and living life after he passed."

"Yet that wisdom did not reach you when you ventured into dangerous territories unarmed," His statement was the only flaw in her otherwise flawless lecture.

Arielle felt Maeleth's hand squeeze her knee, and in great reluctance, the former forced a smile in the Elvenking's direction. "What can I say? I live life on the edge."

To break the tension, Maeleth laughed at Arielle's answer, which brightened Elanoriel, so she joined in the laughter. Arielle had to give it to her companion, she knew how to ease uncomfortable situations. Her laugh was joined by a few others, and then finally the forced smirk and chuckle of his Majesty, King Douche Canoe. Arielle, though, hid her frown behind her goblet.

At that moment a new arrival appeared at the table, his hands folded behind him and a gentle, apologetic smile on his face. Arielle felt Maeleth tense beside her, so she snuck a look at her and realized that her smile had disappeared and her eyes were glued on her food as she tried not to pay attention to the stranger.

"Apologies, _ada,_ for being late. I was hunting out west with Rhovanor," he bowed and was about to take his seat right of his father.

"It is not I you must apologize to, _ion nîn,_ " The King gestured with his eyes towards the brunette who was still staring into her plate as if it was a book.

The tension was back, but Arielle was glad that it wasn't because of her. It was far too tempting to not look between Maeleth and Thranduil's son, Legolas, in attempt to read their minds in that moment. Legolas, who was refreshingly softer in features than his father, looked so uncomfortable when he was forced to turn to Maeleth that Arielle suspected he would nope out of the room at any moment.

With a great stiff bow of his head, finally the elven prince spoke, "Lady Maeleth… it is wonderful to see you again. Much time has passed since I last seen your beautiful face."

Her face snapped to him, and Arielle braced herself when she saw the flash of fire in those deep brown eyes. However as soon as it appeared, it had disappeared and replaced with the ease of her gentle and forgiving (putting it loosely) smile.

"It has been long, _Ernil Legolas,"_ it was all she said in return, which made the prince shift in his spot, feeling eyes on him. It seemed like the kingdom had not forgotten his youthful blunder.

His hands still clasped behind him, and he opened his mouth like a fish, then closed them, and then reopened them once he allowed himself the courage to say what everyone awaited for him to say. But, instead he requested that they take it elsewhere, "Would you care to accompany me on the balcony?"

Arielle's eyes shifted to Maeleth and saw the slightest grit of her jaw before she sighed softly through her nose and nodded. "Of course, _ernil nîn_ ," she dabbed her lips before standing and excusing herself. The thief kept her eyes on her as she and Legolas left the table and disappeared behind mustard colour silk curtains a little bit away.

"Well, that was certainly awkward," came a voice down the table, which reminded Arielle that she was now alone to her own devices. Her eyes shifted back to the people remaining at the table, and saw that a curly black haired elf had spoken. "I am surprised she accepted his offer of privacy."

"Lady Maeleth is polite by nature," Thranduil said, raising his goblet and leaning back into his seat. "She is wise enough to know that it is not proper to humiliate a prince in front of his court and father."

It was hard to her keep her lips shut, especially that the wine had loosened her tongue. At least Arielle had the decency to mutter into her goblet, though her comment didn't go unheard. She damned herself for not remembering that elves have keen sense of hearing, and she was only about 10-11 feet away from the Elvenking.

"If you have something to say, _dinaer,_ do speak up," Thranduil eyed his guest with a look of indifference. His arms rested on the arm rests of his chair, his back leaning to the left so he could face the right side of the table, where she sat.

Arielle slowly put down her goblet, running her tongue over her teeth in an attempt to filter the words coming from her mouth. But by then, her head swam in a million of sassy remarks that she was on the verge of spewing. On earth, she would have been able to get away with it; the only repercussions of speaking your mind only really affected your social life, with only a few exceptions. One wrong word here, and she could be put in a cell, or worse, kicked out.

"I am just not accustomed to elvish social conduct," she spoke true. "I have grown up to speak plainly, and let my mind be known."

"You mistake our formality, _lirimaer,_ " the other elf said, his dark eyes hooded under his brow bone, making his smile seem sinister. His name of endearment for her confused both the elleth and the king; the former, not sure what it meant, and the latter because he knew what it meant. It meant the exact opposite of what he had been calling her since their introduction. "Our status dictates our actions, though as you have witnessed," he gestured with a nod to the lower tables, where the merrier elves danced and drank. "Not all elves act as us. You, young one, are not bound by the constricts of status. If you wish to speak plainly, then by all means, allow your tongue free."

There was a way he said that, that made Arielle uncomfortable, though his speech did intrigued her. So far, he was the most interesting elf she had met since her arrival. She licked her bottom lip out of habit of being speechless, but the action made the ellon mimic her in a more territorial way. Clearing her throat, she dabbed her mouth with a napkin, "I am afraid I cannot do that."

"What are you afraid of, _lirimaer_?"

"I am afraid that words would sent me back to my own devices in the unpredictable hands of the Mirkwood," it was plain of her to state, and heavy with truth that not even the ellon and Thranduil couldn't deny.

The king tilted his head and regarded her with a silent agreement before bringing his goblet to his lips and taking a drink. The ellon, however, was offended for her by his king's quick disregard for her wellbeing.

"Oh, come now, _mellon nîn,_ you would send such a young elleth to her death simply because you disapprove of her words? I know you are not that cruel."

Thranduil sighed, "She may speak plain when I allow it, and it would be in her best interest to resist being insulting."

Arielle decided to test the waters, and when the words slipped her mouth she felt Elanoriel shift in her seat uncomfortably, hoping that no drama ensued in front of her. "Would you allow me to speak plain now?"

Thranduil assessed her for a moment over the rim of his goblet and then sighed, flourishing his hand to give his approval. Though he will find out that he would regret that decision.

"Why do you continuously insult an elleth that has done none to you, and then you do not give her the honour of defending herself without being punished or reprimanded for it?"

The silence that followed was almost as bad as the one that Legolas had let linger in the air before he left with Maeleth. Elanoriel's father cleared his throat behind his napkin, though the dark-haired ellon that spoke before chuckled and squinted his eyes in mirth. All others that sat at the table remained silent, or tried to distract themselves in their own conversations. Thranduil, however, burned his gaze into Arielle's eyes and this time the elleth refused to waver her own.

" _Mellon nîn ,_ you have not thought to look for claws on this wild cat?" The ellon chuckled, and the king broke his stare to glare at him.

The king's chest swelled in a sigh and he nodded at Arielle, his face softened, which took the thief by surprise. "Your argument is sound, _dess._ I am elf enough to admit that, and I apologize for my unreasonable rudeness."

Bile in Arielle's throat formed; she was not expecting a formal apology, and the genuine sincerity behind it that she could see behind his icy eyes. It caught her off guard, and she really had no idea what to say. She was prepared to retort something should he reply with something entitled, but he caught her off guard and that annoyed her greatly.

With a short nod, and a purse of her lips she forgave him, "You are forgiven, my lord."

He nodded in acknowledgement, though his eyes remained on her in a curious manner that unnerved Arielle. His eyes brought back the itching feeling of familiarity that she still couldn't place. It made her ill-at-ease, like an unpleasant memory that she wished she didn't recall.

Though his gaze was pulled away by the grace of Maeleth as she returned to the table. She stood behind her vacant seat, hands on the backrest; even though she wore a smile, Arielle was perceptive enough see her eyes were glazed and discoloured. _She wants to cry_. Arielle shifted her eyes accusingly at Legolas, a faux smile on his face as well when he took his place next to his father.

"Who cares to join me down to dance?" Maeleth beamed, and as soon as she said that Elanoriel sprung from her seat.

"Oh, I do! I have been so restless in this chair!" The chair was empty and tucked into the table in such quickness that Arielle had to process that her blonde friend was no longer at her side.

"How about you, Arielle?" She asked as she took her eager cousin's hand.

"I do not dance," Arielle offered a smile and remained in her seat, reaching up to drink the rest of her wine. She had grown more sober than she had liked after trying to filter her words so much in the last conversation.

"It is your choice, my friend. I would beg of you, but it seems like I am being pulled against my will," Maeleth laughed as her cousin tugged at her hand and tried to drag her towards the dancing area. Eventually she relented and the two jogged towards the stairs where the other elves danced merrily.

"I cannot believe my ears. How such a creature does not dance?" The black-haired ellon spoke again, and Arielle was forced to look at him. "Has your human-father not bothered to provide you with music to dance to?"

A sad expression passed over Arielle's face, "My brother used to sing to me quite a bit. But they were mostly lullabies to put me to sleep, nothing to dance to." That much was true; Bellamy loved to sing and when he wasn't running his tongue about nonsense, he was humming a tune, or stringing his guitar idly. The nostalgia tugged at her heart greatly, that she couldn't hide the solemn mien on her face.

"Such beauty in her sorrow, don't you agree, Thranduil?" The dark haired elf said, which made Arielle's face snap up, wondering if she misheard him.

The king remained silent to the other's question, but he watched her all the same.

"What is that supposed to mean?" She challenged, her voice had an undertone of incertitude.

The ellon put up his hand as a gesture to calm her, "Do not find my words insensitive. It beautiful to see how morality still affects you so, even though there has been great time since your last family had slipped from your life. The way your eyes speak, it is as if they had departed only a fortnight ago."

 _It might as well be a fortnight ago._ Arielle remained silent despite her loud thoughts. Bellamy may still be alive, though he might as well be on a different planet. It felt as if he _had_ died, due to the unlikelihood of her never seeing him again.

"It breaks my heart to see you in such a state of sadness, lady Arielle. Please, won't you join me in a dance, in hopes to lift your spirits?" The ellon asked.

She wanted to repeat that she did not dance, but when her eyes moved towards Maeleth and Elanoriel, her mind changed. Maeleth threw her troubles to the wind as the music swept through her body, and Arielle was yearning to feel the same way her friend did at that moment.

"I suppose one dance won't hurt me," she found herself saying, and the ellon broke into a huge grin.

"Splendid," he slid out of his chair and then turned to the king, "Forgive me, my king, my prince, I hope my absence doesn't hinder you. I am granted a dance with a fair maiden, I hope you understand."

Arielle remained seated as she folded her napkin and placed it on her half empty plate. She barely paid attention to the three ellyn, but she did find it curious when Thranduil switched from the Westron language to that of Sindarin, and had a look of seriousness. Her curiosity damned her for not attempting to learn this complex language in the past year.

After the dark-haired ellon had said something and laughed, he walked towards her chair and pulled it out, then offered a hand. She didn't take it until after she casted an inquisitive look at the King, who for once was not watching them. In fact it was like he was painfully trying to avoid looking at them, or he was lost in an uncomfortable thought.

As they were walking towards the dancing area, the tone of the song changed to something slow pacing, which Arielle was thankful for. She had no idea how to dance, especially the graceful footwork that the elves could do. Slow dancing wasn't hard to get used to, but it also meant more touching than Arielle had prepared for. The ellon took her hand in one, then pulled her close by placing his other on the small of her back. This left her to leave her other hand on his clavicle, and left her eyes wandering everywhere but on his penetrating dark gaze.

"Has anyone told you, Lady Arielle, that your eyes are quite fascinating?" He said, his voice soft.

"Not to my face," She blinked at him before tearing her gaze from his face and to over his shoulder. "You have me at a disadvantage, my lord. You know my name, but I don't believe we have actually introduced each other."

He laughed, his cheeks tinting only a bit. "Of course I would be so caught off by a beauty that I would forget to actually formalize myself. Forgive me, _lirimaer._ Allow me to _formally_ and _properly_ introduce myself. I am Lord Chancellor Tharnor."

In an instant, Arielle's eyes snapped to his, her previous discomfort disappeared and in it's place was purpose. Her job danced with her, and like seeing a shiny diamond ring under a glass case, her eyes glinted with mischievous intent.

The thief's lips spread into a wide grin, "It is a pleasure to meet you, Lord Chancellor. I am Arielle… The Lionheart."

* * *

 **Next two chapters we will be finding out where Bellamy is and what he's doing (: More info about that when I publish it.**

 **Also, please review, feedback is much appreciated. I usually hate asking for this, but I just want to know what people think of this so far. Also be sure to check the pinterest board in my profile to see the additional photos I put in, in this photo.**

 **Happy Readings xoxox**

 **qtj**


	5. iv - His Childhood Dream

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **SONGS IN THIS CHAPTER**

 _Renegades_ by X Ambassadors

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

 _Jai Courtney_ as Bellamy graves

 **Author's Note:**

I know that this isn't the chapter most would be excited about, but Bellamy's chapters are important, because it does give a lot of background info and it has more information about the Rings and what exactly happened before they came. Not to mention that there is, **I have decided, romance with an OC and one of the dwarves. I just haven't decided on who.**

 **So when I first introduce her, I'm going to ask who do you think she has more chemistry with, so it will be up to you guys.**

I also want to give a heads up that I changed the category for this story from Hobbit to Lord of the Rings, and I think it was a good decision, because as soon as I did, my stats when up. With that being said I want to give a huge thank you to the new readers who reviewed, alerted, and favourited this story. It has been very encouraging while I was writing the seventh chapter, so thank you again, truly.

* * *

 **CHAPTER IV**  
 _His Childhood Dream_

* * *

 _Wool's Orphanage, c.1999_

"Jane, are you still awake?"

The 10 year old looked up at the bed above her as a head popped down. Bellamy's dark blonde hair, long and uncut framed his head, gently glowed from the blinding night snow from outside. Jane nodded and whispered, "I can't sleep."

"Me either," Bellamy sighed. "I hate winter. It's so cold."

"Can you tell me a story?" Jane asked suddenly, hitching the blanket closer to her chin. The raging snow storm outside unnerved her quite a bit, and it was beginning to suffocate her.

Her bunkmate sighed and flopped back onto his bed above her, "Another one? Why don't you read a story yourself?"

There was a beat of silence before she replied, her voice soft yet heavy with despair, "I can't read."

Bellamy was silent for a moment as he looked at the ceiling with a pained expression, "Right… I forgot."

Jane, like Bellamy, had been in the Orphanage their whole life. Though unlike Bellamy, Jane did not take to school quite as well as he did, especially English. They had said that she was dyslexic, but Bellamy didn't quite understand the term. All he knew was that it was something that made it so Jane couldn't read. It got a little frustrating for him, since she constantly asked him what things said, but in that moment he had an overwhelming feeling of pity for her.

"What story do you want to hear?"

"The one about the funny small man who has big feet," she said without hesitation.

Bellamy gave a silent laugh, "You mean The Hobbit? I brought back the book to the library."

"Then tell it your way, Bellamy. I like the way you tell stories better anyway…"

"Alright…" he trailed off and put his arms behind his head as he tried to think of where to start. "Sometime ago, in a world so far away, there lived a hobbit…"

"What was this world like?"

"Well, it is nothing like here," he mused. "There is magic, loads of it. Creatures we could only _dream_ of, and best of all there are the people who live there. There are men, like us, the hobbits; tiny people with big hairy feet. The dwarves; hairy blokes who make wicked swords and armour. Then there are the elves… They are elegant race of people that are immortal…they could live for thousands of years and not age a single day. Some are very magical, some are gifted with seeing into the future, some are skilled in combat. They are tall, graceful, and have extensive knowledge on almost everything."

Jane sighed, "They sound wonderful. I wish _I_ was an elf."

"Not all elves are friendly though. Some can be as vile as men if they choose to be…"

Jane craned her neck, as if that would help to see him over the edge of the bed, "How could beautiful people like that be as bad as men could be?"

"When you live as long as they do…some times they don't appreciate life as much. Like… the Elvenking of the Woodland Realm. He's seen a _bunch_ of shit, and that's why he's so crabby, especially to dwarves."

"What did the dwarves do to him?"

"If you let me finish the story, you would know—"

"Right! Right, I'm sorry…continue."

"Thank you," Bellamy sighed and kept his eyes on the ceiling. "Anyway… So this hobbit… His name was Bilbo Baggins, and he lived in the most suburb place in all of Middle Earth; the Shire."

* * *

 _Bree, 26th Astron_

Loud banging startled a body that was tangled in various furs and four pale legs. Bellamy grunted awake, blinking at the glare of the sun that peeked through the closed blinds. He glared in turn at the wooden door, where someone was noisily wrapping on.

"Bloody hell, what do you want?!" He groaned and collapsed his head on the pillow. The bodies he was in-between stirred in protest, but their faces buried into his chest or in the furs.

"Bellamy, get your arse out, we gotta get goin'!" the person yelled irritably.

"Must I? I am in good company." He smiled to himself, though his eyes remained closed.

"It's high _noon!"_

Bellamy remained silent, hoping that if he pretended he didn't hear, that maybe the angry voice would go away. Arguing in the hall outside the inn room followed, then a lot of feet shuffling around. The trio of naked bodies attempted to flush out the noise outside as they did with the light that threatened to blind them.

Suddenly it went quiet, and Bellamy had believed that he had won by sheer laziness alone. Alas, his hopes were shattered when the door was flung open and two dwarves came rushing in with purpose.

The girls at Bellamy's sides screamed and tugged the furs over their chests before they sprung from the bed. The man between them sprung up, attempting to hug the wall behind him, as if it would help the wrath of his two companions.

Thankfully for Fili and Kili, their friend had at the very least his breaches on when the furs were taken away. So when they cornered him on either side of the bed to grab his protesting arms and flung him out of the bed, they did so without reluctance or hesitation.

Fili suddenly brought a bucket of water from what seemed like thin air, and dumped it on the dwarf on the floor. His smile wide behind his mustachio, and laughed when his brother threw the rest of Bellamy's clothes at him on the floor.

"You have slept in the clouds enough; it is time to get up, eat, and prepare before we depart for our dinner in the Shire," Fili said as he left the room, stepping over the soaking wet man on the floor.

Kili lingered at the door, finally acknowledging the woman who braced themselves on opposite sides of the room. He smiled cheekily at them and bowed deeply, "Apologies, ladies." Then he sunk back into the hall before closing the door behind him.

Bellamy, still on the floor, stared at the ceiling defeated and exhausted, "I need new mates."

Kill and Fili sat impatiently outside the inn in Bree, readying their ponies and counting the minutes that Bellamy freely wasted.A half hour past when they saw the blonde walk out of the door with the two bar wenches at his arms. It was quite a sight to see, and the other men that shared the stables couldn't help but look.

Bellamy, much to his surprise, came to this world a dwarf, rather a man. He had always been known to be freakishly tall and broad, so when I saw himself shorter than most people, it unnerved him. He now saw the world at a totally different level, and it only took him a year to embrace it. As it turns out, his swagger wasn't hindered when it came to wooing women; with his lute and his charming voice, it was easy to ensnare willing women into sharing furs for a night or two. Sometimes two women, like he had that night.

"What took you so long? Were you braiding that sad patch of hair you call a beard?" Fili called out after Bellamy bid the two wenches a good morrow and left them standing idle at the entrance.

"I was making a braid, this is true," he smiled once he got to the brothers. "But the one that involved legs."

The three laughed as Bellamy packed his pony, and then hoisted himself on. His lute strung on his back like a sword, his actual sword laid on his thigh, and on his other an axe of dwarfish make.

"Again?" Kili asked once he was on his pony as well. "Don't you grow tired?"

Bellamy twisted his face as if he had said the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard, _"No!_ Do you grow tired of eating, or breathing? Besides… I needed one for the road, or else I would not be pleasant company."

Fili rolled his eyes, though his mildly amused smile still on his face as the three began to take to the road. They had started with a party of four when they arrived at Bree a month ago, though the fourth was absent for a few days now. It wasn't until they had exit the city boundaries that Bellamy wondered when the fourth would return

"When will your uncle join us?" He casted a look as if the disgruntled Thorin would be hiding behind a tree.

"He said the night left — while you slept — that he will see as at Mr. Baggin's residence," Fili answered easily.

"The day starts in my favour," Bellamy mused. Thorin Oakenshield was not a fan of his, and had been trying to remove the thorn at his side ever since his nephews found him trying to steal food from a market in the Blue Mountains. Bellamy had been a constant problem for the dwarf ever since then.

"The day started hours ago, friend," Kili shook his head. "The sun hangs low, the day is about to end."

"The day starts when I leave bed," Bellamy stated as if this were a true fact. "Not an hour or more before then."

"He thinks the sun revolves around him," Kili said to his brother, as though this was news. "Like an entitled king. No wonder my uncle hates you," there was truth behind his words, but it was much more than that. Bellamy grinned and chuckled all the same.

 _King of Thieves_ , _yes_ , Bellamy thought, thinking it an appropriate title for him. Thorin had no love for the new comer's extracurricular activities, in fact he was a firm advocate for Bellamy to be punished for his actions. However, after further investigation it was soon revealed that Bellamy's actions weren't selfish, that he had stollen food for human children who were orphaned by Dunlendings along the road. They had miraculously made it to the Blue Mountains alive, though they were starved and malnourished riding a thirsty pony. It was still a crime though, so it was decided that he would get five lashes for it.

What they didn't know was that they might as well have tickled him, because that's how it felt. _King of Thieves… Master of Death,_ Bellamy smiled as he looked upon the skull ring on his left index finger. It glinted under the sun as if to wink at him, and the magic on his finger vibrated arrogantly. If only his companions knew, if only all of Middle Earth knew…that he possessed something was far more powerful than the One Ring they fear so much. At least, in his eyes it is inevitably more powerful than Sauron's. It not only made him immortal, but indestructible, an ability that he had exploited several hundred times in the last year.

While Kili and Fili were aware of Bellamy's daredevil way of life, as well as his sticky fingers, they were not aware of his ability to evade death and great injury. While he could receive flesh wounds, they did not inflict any pain in him, and would heal quickly before they could fester, but they would still scar. In a battle, blades and arrows would never hit him unless it was deliberate or unavoidable.

Essentially, he was Achilles without the Achilles heel.

The sight of the ring was bittersweet though; it was all that he had dreamt about, all that he could hope for, but he wasn't happy. For years this had only been a myth, a story told among orphans who believed in fairytales, since that is the only light they could clung to. However, the sight of it reminded him that by obtaining it, he had to sacrifice something far more precious: his sister, Arielle, the only family he would surely ever got. Yes, the dwarves he had met since he came stumbling into the Blue Mountains had become good friends to him, but they couldn't replace Arielle, who still remained missing. Or worse.

There were a million questions he didn't want to answer himself… Was she alive was a big one, and if she was, was she here in Middle Earth? The power of the rings were vague, and Arielle could very well end up in a different universe than his own.

They went by different names in different tongues and cultures, though the power in them was always the same in the legends. To Bellamy they were known as The Stone of Nyx, and his, the Band of Styx. The former able to render the wearer as flexible as shadow, and invisible in times of need. They were untouchable as long as they wore it; fast as the wind and as light as the light of the moon. The latter ring wasn't as elegant, but it held the power that most wish to seek: to be completely indestructible. To be both an unstoppable force and an immovable object. Bellamy could go nose first into dragon fire and come out only having his clothes burnt off and his hair singed. On top of that, he had the fighting prowess of the best warriors in history. His only weakness was at how easily such power could be taken away from him. Unlike the Stone, which bound itself to the wearer until they pass on, Styx's band could be easily removed like any piece of jewelry.

Bellamy had no idea what would happen if the ring was removed. Would he be sent back in the world he was born to? Would the injuries and sicknesses he had kept at bay hit him like hellfire fury? Or would he simply return to be a mortal? His only solace on that last speculation was that he was a dwarf, and lived five times as long as a man. Unless he didn't get himself killed at some point.

The sun began to low in the sky, so the shadows in the Old Forest began to grow with only the blindness of orange light peaking through the branches of the trees. It was the start of spring, though they had a forgiving winter that year. The snow had all melt over a fortnight ago, which gave earlier life to the trees and plants. Some say this was a good sign, and others promise that this would only bring an earlier, longer winter in the following year.

"This silence is bothering me," Kili said, unnerved by the very few sounds that he heard, that a forest should be making. There were birds, but they hadn't seen a sign of life; Bellamy could only assume that most animals were still hibernating, their biological clocks weren't prepared for the early spring. "How about a song, Bellamy?"

" _No,_ " Fili promptly said. "I have heard one too many love ballads over the last month from him."

Bellamy looked over at Fili with a broad smile, "What is wrong, Fili? Are you jealous of my tantalizing voice?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I am a fan of a good bard as much as the next dwarf. I just cannot stand another song about a beautiful woman when we are lacking them in our company."

"Well, I would have brought my friends from the inn, but I am sure your uncle would not approve of having human wenches hanging around while we went hunting dragons," he casted a sideways look at the blonde dwarf before stating, "I don't always sing love songs, my friend. I have songs for many things. Name a subject, and I will sing about it."

Fili snorted and rolled his eyes, though Kili seemed thoroughly amused by the idea of this strange challenge. Before the younger brother could suggest a topic, Fili suddenly had a haughty look on his face. "Since you are a criminal, perhaps you have a song about a criminal? I admit I have not heard one of those."

"You doubt me?" Bellamy raised an eyebrow before pulling his lute from his back and balancing it on his lap as his pony pursued his trek.

"I doubt you know a song for everything," Fili pointed out as he kicked his pony softly for it to trot next to the short-haired dwarf. "If the song is actually good, and not something you pulled out of your arse in order to prove a point, then I will give you five minted silver pence for it."

Bellamy strung his lute and looked smugly at the oldest brother, "You have a deal." They shook hands on it and he returned to his instrument, stringing a few cords before his fingers found a tune.

" _Run away-ay with me. Lost souls in revelry, running wild and running free… Two kids, you and me,"_ He hummed before the song built up. _"and I say hey, hey, hey hey. Living like we're renegades. Hey, hey, hey. Hey, hey, hey. Living like we're renegades, renegades, renegades."_

The look on Fili's face was priceless, because he realized that he was just out on five pence. Though with a large smile, Bellamy continued, his head nodding to the rhythm of the song. " _Long live the pioneers, rebels and mutineers. Go forth and have no fear, come close lend an ear. And I said hey, hey, hey, hey. Living like we're renegades…"_ He continued onto the chorus again.

Kill was enjoying the song without reluctance, nodding his head and patting his fingers on his saddle, enjoying the song that filled the silent wood.

" _So, all hail the underdogs. All hail the new kids, all hail the outlaws… Spielbergs and Kubricks. It's our time to make a move. It's our time to make amends. It's our time to break the rules… Let's begin,"_ His fingers slowed down only a fraction as he went into the closing chorus, but he kept the rhythm by hitting the lute with his thumb and humming until he made his final closing note.

A great sigh came from Fili, and then came the sound of a purse being detached from his belt, "I can't believe I actually liked that… I'll get you, Graves. One day." He tossed his purse at the other and Bellamy caught it in one hand with a grin.

"If you keep doing that, I may be rich yet," he fished what he was owed and threw back the purse.

"I do have one question, though," Kili's brows furrowed as he looked straight a head on the uneven path. "What are Spielbergs and Kubricks?"

Bellamy opened his mouth, though nothing came out in response. His eyes casted in front of him, he found the perfect distraction when he saw the forest was opening up to open fields, where they could plainly see the rolls of hills of the Shire. "Looks like we are here, boys," he nodded over to the mouth of the forest.

Little lights could be seen from the settlement of Hobbiton; torches that lit the porches of homes of the blissfully naive race of hobbits. When the dwarves road their ponies through the narrow walkways between these small hills and burrows, they gained many queer looks through windows and from old men who rocked in their chairs.

There were a group of curly haired female hobbits, standing in their garden, picking up flowers and putting it in each other's hair. When the dwarves past them, they directed their wide-eyed gaze at the three of them. They stared open mouthed at them, save for a chipper looking red-head with a mass of wild orange and yellow curls.

Bellamy smiled charmingly at them and bowed his head, "Ladies. Such flowers pale in your hair; your beauty drains them to shyness. Promise me you will be merciful to those flowers."

"Oh, _Durin help me_ ," Kili groaned and shared a look with his brother.

The hobbit girls giggled and blushed, biting their lips and waved as the dwarves continued on their way to the burrow with the mark on the door. The red head hoped closer to the fence that separated the road and craned her neck as she watched them leave further up the hills of Hobbiton.

"Must you flirt with every woman we see on the road?" Kili asked.

"They were three, one for each. Kili, you could flirt if you wished; I believe that one girl was eyeing you up," Bellamy sent him a look over his shoulder. "Do you not have confidence in yourself?"

"Not until that beard grows out," Fili laughed mockingly, earning a glare from his brother.

"Bellamy has less hair than me, Fili," Kili pointed out, though the comment didn't hinder the thief.

"You forget, Kili," Bellamy said, squinting in the dim light, trying to find Bilbo's burrow. "These are not dwarf women… The length of your beard doesn't matter. In fact, human women, and perhaps hobbit women as well, _prefer_ less hair."

"I will never understand that," Kili stated and Fili quickly agreed. "Bare skin seems strange to me, like a hairless dog. Or elves."

Bellamy snorted, but remained quiet. Truth be told, there weren't many dwarf women. The amount he had met even in the Blue Mountains he could count on his two hands. There may have been more, but it was very hard to tell. Despite his new race, his taste in women pretty much stayed the same. And, dwarf women were notoriously hard to entice, since they were always the one to initiate a courtship. Without a big glorious beard, they weren't very interested in him, or even his music. That didn't matter to Bellamy though, since he hadn't an interest in any dwarf women… except for one.

They had found the burrow when they spotted the mark glinting under the moon. The three to stop at the base of the hill and tied their ponies to a post off the road and began to climb the steps that lead to the round door. Inside they could hear voices, one sounded like the protesting of an overly polite, yet discontent, hobbit. Bellamy had a broad smile on his face when he reached the door; he had become a child reliving his favourite book. Sure, it was one thing to wake up in the world he thought he was only allowed to dream in, but another to relive the story he continuously read throughout his youth.

Fili at his right, and Kili at his left, Bellamy knocked on the door. Fretting could be heard, but neither gave it much thought, save for Bellamy, who desperately wanted to start laughing out of excitement.

When the door swung open, the Hobbit made a sound of distress when he saw who stood beyond it.

"Fili," Fili stated his name rather gracefully.

"Kili," And Kili sternly.

Bellamy did all he could to maintain the width of his grin. "Bellamy," he managed to say without a stammer of excitement.

The three bowed deeply and said in unison, "At your service."

* * *

 **Hey guys! I promise that I know that most of you are probably mostly looking to read Arielle's chapters, so Bellamy's chapters won't be as long or as many as hers. Though his chapters are very important, because I will be including the flashbacks in them, as well as vital information. Not to mention another romance! _or two._ ;) **

**Now a heads up, the next chapter may feel very repetitive, because it's the dinner scene in the movie. I just really wanted to write this scene, but additionally you get to know what Bellamy has been up to, and why Thorin hates him. Right after that chapter, it's back to Arielle.**

 **Don't forget to check out the Pinterest board where I uploaded some pictures for this chapter, link is in my profile.**

 **Happy Readings oxoxox**

 **QTJ**

ps. Yes, it's Wool's orphanage, as in the orphanage Voldemort was in. This is an easter egg for my Somewhere Over The Rainbow readers; you'll be seeing a lot of them, and for those who spot them in the reviews will get a shout out in the next chapter. 


	6. v - His Unruly Company

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **RANDOM FACT #1:**

The title of this story was actually going to be called Thief of Virtue, though with the addition of Bellamy, I found that the song _King and Lionheart_ by Of Monsters and Men related a lot to the premise of the story. The song was written by Nanna for her little brother. They were separated in two different countries (Him, Canada, and she, Iceland), and the song is about her distress over being separated from her only sibling. Alternatively, this song also relates to certain relationships in the story. If you haven't heard the song before, I would be surprised if you didn't, give it a listen. It really is a great song.

* * *

 **CHAPTER V  
** _His Unruly Company_

* * *

"It's a tad excessive, isn't it? Have you got a cheese knife?"

" _Cheese knife_? He eats it by the block."

In every direction the poor hobbit's home was being taken over by dwarves, and one wizard. Bellamy was aiding Fili and Kili with a keg of ale, the two brothers lifting it as Bellamy followed shortly behind, juggling as many horns and pints he could carry. On his way into the dining area, Gandalf was counting and naming the dwarves that passed by him, but when his eyes casted on Bellamy, he squinted at him.

"Excuse my old age, my boy, but I don't believe I remember your name… Or your face," The wizard continued to peer at him.

"That is because we haven't met, sir," Bellamy grinned, almost having dropped the glasses when he stared at one of his all-time childhood heroes. "The name's Bellamy. Bellamy Graves," he stuck out a hand, holding onto the pile of cups in his other with great skill.

Gandalf looked at his hand before taking it, though his squinting gaze never faltered. "Gandalf the Grey. Forgive me again, but that is a strange name for a dwarf."

That didn't hinder Bellamy's grin at all, instead he diverted the conversation so he didn't need to explain. He was rather good at that. "Life is strange, and strange things happen. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Gandalf. Please excuse me — I don't think I can balance these much longer."

The Wizard nodded, though his curious eyes still watched him as Bellamy retreated into the dining room and began placing the pints and horns along the table with the plates. It was then the Wizard realized he had lost count and began once again. Once he was done, with the additional dwarf he did not anticipate, he realized that they were one short.

"He is late, is all. He traveled north to a meeting of our kin. He will come," Dwalin informed as he leaned against the wall.

Gandalf sighed, ignoring the anxious hobbit that lingered behind him. His house completely overrun by hairy men, big in stature to him, though nearly as short, who completely depleted his pantry. Within five minutes what was in his pantry was now on the table in his family's fine dinnerware, all dirty, sullied, and aggressively handled by the company of dwarves.

"Bombur, catch!" A boiled egg went flying across the table, and the roundest dwarf with the ginger mane caught it in his mouth without effort. The entire table cheered, and more food went flying across the table merrily. Somewhere outside the room, a hobbit was looking sadly at his empty pantry, mourning the loss of the stock of food he had accommodated over the start of spring.

"Who wants an ale? There you go!" Fili went walking across the table, head bowed, handing everyone an ale. "Not for you," he bonked Bellamy on the head.

"Oi!" The thief shouted at him before grabbing a pint from Fili's hands. "Don't be bitter because you lost our bet," he shouted over the rabble that grew louder when Dwalin poured ale into Oin's hearing aid.

Bellamy only had met a handful of the company that evening, though no one seemed to pay him any mind unless they had bumped into him. Some he remembered from the last year, like Balin and Dwalin, Gloin and Oin, though the others he had to introduce himself. There were many jokes made of his feminine name, though those insults were long ago past him. He had enough bullies in his youth to know to block out such superficial insults. Plus he knew that it was all in jest, and dwarves were always known to be aggressive with everyone, even their own kin. Bellamy had a little comfort in that, because it felt like he was in a brotherhood, a large family that he had never had the privilege of being apart of.

"ALE ON THE COUNT OF THREE!" Someone shouted, and they all raised their mugs, butted them together and began chugging.

The burping contest that followed was all Bilbo could endure, though no one paid any attention to the hobbit's growing anxiety. In a way, Bellamy felt bad… They had barged into his home, cleared out his food, made a mess of his kitchen and dining area, and have been rude the entire time. But, alas, Bellamy wasn't one to interrupt a story, so this is how it will remain.

"Y'know, lad," Dwalin nearly yelled over the commotion, pointing a finger at Bellamy, who sat between Kili and Nori. "I am _quite_ surprised that yer even 'ere. After all the orc shit you did in the last year."

Bellamy swallowed what was in his mouth, and then casted a look at Kili, but he wasn't paying attention. He was too busy counting the amount of olives that Bombur could fit in his mouth. His eyes turned to Dwalin, "What is in the past may stay in the past."

He snorted, "Don't mistake me, boy, it isn't I who holds grudges against you. That woman could handle her own, that is true, but Thorin is not a forgivin' man, and the game you played is still on his mind, I know for certain." There was a warning tone to his voice that was unnerving to Bellamy, but his mouth was kept at a thin line, his face stoic as he listened on. "It would be wise to stay on his good side, lad."

"You forget, Dwalin," Bellamy thumbed the handle of his pint. "It was my heart that was broken, not the other way around."

The older dwarf snorted and rolled his eyes, "You bards…always with ya sentimental pity-me, bull shit. Grow a beard, boy! Y'know nothin' of dwarf women. Crap like that doesn't romance'em."

"And you know of romancing women, Dwalin?" Bellamy smirked widely, and the older dwarf glared.

"Shut up," he growled and resumed drinking his ale, then wiped his mouth aggressively.

However, after that conversation Bellamy found it hard to keep his spirits up. The last year wasn't a piece of cake, which he suspected it wouldn't, but for him it was particularly taxing. He wasn't known to be a fan of committed relationships, Bellamy just never found a woman that could keep up him. Arielle would have been an ideal mate, but truth be told, he couldn't look at her in any way other than being a sister. There was that awkward moment in their teens when they thought they should date, but it was painfully awkward. They hated themselves for submitting to the expectations of society that if a girl and boy who weren't related to each other grew up since they were children, that they could potentially be romantic with each other. That thankfully wasn't the case for them.

However, Arielle was, and still is, the closest love to a woman he has ever had. His birth mother didn't exactly give him a good view on women, even though he spent a grand total of three months with her after he was born prematurely. He knew there was something inherently wrong with him when it came to committed relationships, but he didn't realize it was the rooted part of his past until he sought her out twenty years after.

Little to Bellamy's knowledge, fate had things in store for him when he passed from his home world into this one. His heart was alive for one woman in the Blue Mountains, a woman with raven black hair, long and thick like a lion's mane, and a beard that was thicker along her cheekbone and chin than his own. She was aggressive and strong, not like any woman Bellamy has ever met. But, she was more than just that. She was also widowed, had children older than him (only to his knowledge), and was the sister of Thorin Oakenshield.

Dinner was ending to a close. The table bare with only crumbs, bone remains, and a lot of spilt ale. Dwarves were starting to wipe their mouths clean on doilies and such, and Bilbo was hanging on the end of his last thread of dignity. Gandalf followed the small man as he complained, stopping outside the dining room where Ori approached them.

"Excuse me for interrupting, but what should I do with my plate?"

Fili, Kili, and Bellamy walked out at that moment. Fili gave Bellamy a look and whispered, "I bet you can't do a song about dishes."

A grin spread on the thief's face, "Oh, can't I?" He pulled his lute off his back and Fili rolled his eyes before turning to Ori.

"Here you go, Ori. Give it to me," He took the plate and threw it down the hall, where Kili caught it with one hand and the other hand holding a pipe. The younger Durin son then threw it into the kitchen, where Bifur caught it and began washing it.

All the while, Bellamy leaned against the wall and began stringing his lute as the steady rhythm of the motions started. Plates and bowls were expertly thrown over heads and being kicked and bumped into the air before being sent in the direction they needed to be. All the while Bilbo running turning red as he protested, muttering about the value of his precious dinnerware.

The tempo reached into the dinning room, where the rest of the dwarves scraped their utensils and bumped their elbows on the table in perfect unison. The gift of song was evidently very strong in dwarves, which lifted Bellamy's spirits as the flow of everything kept in beat with the tune of his lute.

"And can you not do that?" Bilbo asked, "You'll blunt them."

"Ooooh, do you hear that, lads?" Bofur asked, never wavering their movements. "He says we'll blunt the _knives."_

"Blunt the knifes and bend the forks!" Kili sung before Bellamy could begin, and then surprisingly Fili followed him after. "Smash the bottles and burn the corks!"

Then everyone joined in, including Bellamy, "Chip the glasses and crack the plates! That's what Bilbo Baggins hates."

The speed in which plates, pots, bowels, forks and knives began flying around the burrow sped up. The beat of boots and the sound of a flute joining Bellamy's playing filled the air, as one by one, all the dishes piled up. Though Bilbo was unaware of this, far too afraid of the well being of what was left of his house and possessions.

"Cut the cloth and trail the fat! Leave the bones on the bedroom mat! Pour the milk on the pantry floor! Splash the wine on every door!"

A plate went flying over Bellamy's head, he ducked, but managed to bump a bowl into the correct direction with his lute, and did the same with another, and another.

"Dump the crocks in a boiling bowl; pound them up with a thumping pole; and when you've finished, if they are _whoooooole_ … Send them down a hall to roll!"

"That's what Bilbo Baggins hates!"

The hobbit found himself staring at neat pile of washed, unharmed dishes, and sharp sparkling knives and forks. The look he had on his face caused all to laugh, however the laughing quickly stopped when loud banging from the door reached everyone's ears.

Gandalf's face turned serious, the mirth that all had shared had gone. Business was now about to ensue, and their journey would soon begin.

"He is here."

The Wizard went for the door, while all gathered in the foyer to greet their leader and King. Bellamy wasn't ready to jump to the front to greet Thorin, so he remained halfway behind the others.

"Gandalf," Oakenshield greeted, a slight smirk on his face as he sauntered inside. "I thought you said this place was easy to find. I lost my way, twice." He unclasped his cloak, and all remained silent as he continued. "I wouldn't have found it at all, had it not been for that mark on the door."

"Mark?" Bilbo popped out from between two dwarves. "There's no mark on that door, it was painted a week ago!"

"There is a mark," Gandalf noted as he closed the door, and looked down at Bilbo with a small smile of guilt. "I put it there myself." He sighed softly and then gestured to the Hobbit, "Bilbo Baggins, allow me to introduce the leader of our company: Thorin Oakenshield."

Bellamy felt envious, and he didn't understand why. Perhaps because he knew that the friendship Thorin will have with Bilbo is more of a brotherhood he would ever have with Thorin himself. Despite the dwarfking's opinion on Bilbo's incompetence throughout it all, he does, in the end, gain his respect and trust. Bellamy, however, would not get that chance… He had a year to obtain it, but he kept on ruining any chance he got.

"So… This is the Hobbit," Thorin said as he approached the little man, gripped his shoulders, and then began to walk around him. "Tell me, Mr. Baggins, have you done much fighting?"

"Pardon me?"

"Axe or sword? What's your weapon of choice?"

"Well, I do have some skill at conkers, if you must know," Bilbo replied, quite pleased with himself. "… But I fail to see why that's relevant."

"Thought as much," Thorin looked over his shoulder, the dwarves silently laughing. "He looks more like a grocer than a burglar." With arms crossed, Thorin peered at the hobbit in mild amusement at his jest.

Every started to chuckle, and then everyone began to file into the dining room. Bellamy trailed behind, just in time to catch Gandalf sigh as if the tension was strong in the air, or a great burden had been lifted. There was not much food left, but what was left was quickly prepared into a stew, and some biscuits for Thorin as he sat at the front of the table. Bellamy, knowing the King's dislike of him, as well as wanting to stay out of the way as much as possible, sat near the end next to Fili and Kili.

"What news from the meeting in Ered Luin?" Asked Balin. "Did they all come?"

"Aye," Thorin nodded, sharing a look with everyone on the table. Envoys from all seven kingdoms."

"And what did the Dwarves of the Iron Hills say?" Dwalin asked after. His face, unlike the others, was serious, hopeful, but doubtful. "Is Dain with us?"

Thorn sighed deeply, peering at his kin through his eyelashes, "They will not come." A chorus of disappointing murmurs spread along the table while Thorin continued. "They say this quest is ours and ours alone."

"You're going on a quest?" Came the voice of the black sheep in the room, who hid in the Wizard's shadow.

"Bilbo, my dear fellow, let us have a little more light," Gandalf asked, and Bilbo nodded in his request. When the hobbit left, Gandalf pulled out parchment from his robes, a map and spread it on the table for all to see. "Far to the east… over ranges and rivers… beyond woodlands and wastelands," he pointed at the map as Bilbo approached from behind with a lantern in his hand. "Lies a single, solitary peak."

"The Lonely Mountain," the hobbit read over the Wizard's shoulder.

"Aye," Gloin began. "Oin has read the portents…and the portents say it is time."

"Ravens have been seen flying back to the mountain, as it was foretold," Oin joined his brother. Then he began to recite the prophecy, " _When the birds of yore return to Erebor…the reign of the beast will end._ "

Bilbo, who seemed to lose interest, went back to his pantry, presumingly to tidy up, but Oin's words had regained his interest, and he stood at the oval archway, peering at his messy house guests. "Uh, what beast?"

"Oh, that will be a reference to Smaug the Terrible," Bofur said in an ever so casual tone. As if dragons were as common as houseflies and just as annoying. "Chiefest and greatest calamity of our age. Airborne fire-breather. Teeth like razors, claws like meat hooks. Extremely fond of precious metals—"

"— Yes, I know what a dragon is," Bilbo said, wringing his fingers together, looking uncertain since the atmosphere in the room had an unsettling aura to it when the dwarf described this beast.

The sound of chair legs squeaking along the floor made everyone turn to Ori as he declared, "I'm not afraid! I'm up for it. I'll give him a taste of Dwarfish iron right up his jacksie!"

Despite cheers of his bravery, Dori, his eldest brother, was not fooled, and forced him to sit down. Bellamy's eyes casted around the table, knowing there was a mixture of opinions. There were the youth, such as Dori, Kili, and Fili, who were not around during the Desolation of Smaug, who have not faced such a beast, nor seen one in their life time. There were those who were too young when it happened, but swelled their chests at the lad's bravery. The wizened dwarves knew better… the ones old enough to remember the heat on their skin, and the smell of ash and blood in the air.

"The task would be difficult enough with an army behind us," Balin, the eldest of the group, pointed out. "But we number just 14. And not 14 of the best…Nor brightest." His comment gained some insult to the group, protesting and insisting that they weren't dim.

Fili fisted the table, commanding attention, "We may few in number. But we're fighters, all of us, to the last Dwarf."

"And you forget," Kili began right after, his face full of hope and confidence. "We have a Wizard in our company. Gandalf will have killed hundreds of dragons in his time."

Bellamy bit his lip as he raised his pipe to it; everyone all turned to Gandalf, who sat blinking in the spotlight.

"Oh, well, no. I wouldn't say—"

"How many, then?" Dori asked.

"-What?"

"Well, how many dragons have you killed?"

Bellamy covered his mouth as Gandalf sputtered in his spot, coughing up puffs of smoke as Dori insisted that he would give them a number. When he failed to provide the answer they wanted from him, the entire table began shouting and arguing. The thief remained in his seat as all threatened each other across the table, about what he didn't entirely understand. Bilbo attempted pathetically to calm everyone down, but with no avail.

Tired of the noise, Bellamy was about to shout to cease the arguing, but the King under the Mountain had beat him to it. He yelled in dwarfish and stood up tall, menacingly, and irritated. "If we have read the signs, do you not think others will have read them too?"

Gandalf nodded beside him, agreeing with him entirely. All eyes were either on Thorin, or fixated somewhere in the distance as their thoughts started to clear with every passing word. "Rumours have begun to spread. The dragon, Smaug, has not been seen for 60 years. Eyes look east to the mountains, assessing… wondering, weighing the risk. Perhaps the vast wealth of our people now lies unprotected. Do we sit back while others claim what is rightfully ours? Or do we seize this chance to _take back_ Erebor?"

All began to cheer in agreement as fire was lit in their hearts. Their yearning for home and their bounty filled the room with spirit that Bellamy could not join. For nothing of Erebor belonged to him, and he truly felt out of place in a table full of his own kin.

Of course, there had to be one person to put a damper by stating the reality. "You forget, the Front Gate is sealed," Balin reminded. "There is no way into the mountain."

A sly look appeared on the Wizard's face as he pulled something heavy from his sleeve, and began to twirl in his palm, "That, my dear Balin, is not entirely true." The iron key in his hand earned many looks of wonder, but none that matched Thorin's.

"Who gave you this?"

"It was given to me by your father. By Thrain. For safekeeping. It is yours now," he extended his hand to Oakenshield, who held it in his hand gingerly, and stared at it as if it was made of the fragments of the Arkenstone itself.

"If there is a key," Fili said in the silence. "There must be a door."

Gandalf inclined his head and then pointed at the map on the table, where a hand pointed towards the mountain and underneath it were runes. "These runes speak of a hidden passage to the Lower Halls."

"There's another way in," Kili's grin wide across his face.

"Well deduced, mate," Bellamy muttered, patting the young dwarf on his back.

"Well, if we can find it, but dwarf doors are invisible when closed," The Wizard informed, looking between Kili and Bellamy. He then sighs and looks across the table, then down at the map once again. "The answer lies somewhere in this map, and I do not have the skill to find it. But! There are others in Middle Earth who can. The task I have in mind will require a great deal of stealth… and no small amount of courage…"

While Gandalf stole a look at Bilbo, Kili stole a look at Bellamy.

"I told you that it was wise that you came," he said above a whisper, and a cheesy grin before turning around. Bellamy remained quiet, knowing that his involvement in this story could be replaced by a fruit fly.

"But if we are careful and clever, I believe that it can be done."

"That's why we need a burglar," Ori pointed out.

Bilbo nodded, his thumbs hooking on his suspenders as he looked upon the map with mild interest, "Hmm, and a good one too. An expert, I'd imagine."

"And are you?" Asked Gloin.

Bilbo looked up in confusion, then behind himself, "Am I what? What? Oh, me, no. No, no, no. I'm not a burglar. I've never stolen a thing in my life."

At that moment, Thorin's eyes casted down the table, and Bellamy caught his gaze. The thief opened his mouth, but Kili stole the words before he could talk.

"But we _have_ our burglar," the young dwarf stated. "Bellamy _is_ a thief, and a real good one too. Remember when those bandits stole Eily Ash-Fist's topaz necklace and her coin purse? He went into their hide out, and came back with what they stole and then some."

"Ah, see, there, right there, is your burglar," Bilbo willfully pointed at Bellamy.

"Well, I'm afraid I have to agree with Kili and Mr. Baggins," Balin put in. "Where our Hobbit friend here is hardly burglar material, Bellamy has a real knack for it, whether you approve of it or not."

"Aye," Dwalin agreed with his brother. "The wild is no place for gentle folk who can neither fight nor fend for themselves. We already know that this bastard over here can do all that well enough, even for sappy bard."

Everyone began to chatter after that, some agreed to what was said, though others were still unweary of Bellamy, who was a stranger as well as a criminal in some of their eyes, Baggins, while a stranger, wasn't a criminal. The thief shared a glance with Thorin, and then at Gandalf who's anger was rising steadily with a shadow growing around him.

"That's enough," Bellamy shouted, bounding the butt of his pint on the table. "If I were the solution, I am sure there would be no reason to be here. Gandalf has chosen our mousy little friend here for a reason… I may share some of the talents that a hobbit would have. I am light on my feet, but not quite as good, I'd wager."

"Thank you, Mr. Graves," Gandalf peered at him, though less scrutinizing like he had before, but more grateful at Bellamy's sense of logic and understanding. "Not to mention the dragon is accustomed to the smell of dwarf. The scent of a hobbit is all but unknown to him, which gives us a distinct advantage." Bilbo looked at Gandalf, his mouth trembling in attempt protest, but he was rendered speechless. Gandalf sat down in his seat and turned to the Dwarfking, "You asked me to find the 14th — correction, 15th — member of this company and I have chosen Mr. Baggins. There's a lot more to him than appearances suggest. And he's got a _great deal_ more to offer than any of you know," his last remark had a bit of bite behind it. His eyes scanned each face at the table, only lingering on Bellamy's before turning it to Baggins. "Including himself."

"You must trust me on this," The Wizard said lastly, leaning to Thorin to keep his eye in contact.

Thorin's eyes shifted from Gandalf to Bellamy, and then returned to the former. "Fine. We'll do it your way. Give him the contract."

When the contract was given to Bilbo, his sigh could be heard over the calm chatter. Bellamy relaxed in his chair just as Kili turned to look at him.

"Why did you disregard yourself so easily? You are far more qualified, Bellamy."

"Aye," Agreed his brother. "Even if what is said to be true, we know at least _you'd_ survive the journey to the Mountain."

"Worry not, my fine hairy friends," Bellamy inhaled deeply and smiled. "I believe Mr. Baggins has a lot to offer, as Gandalf had said. If he needs guidance, I am more than happy to provide it."

" _Incineration?_ " Was all that was heard by the Hobbit in the hallway.

"Aye," Bofur nodded, and continued on in that nonchalant way of speech. "He'll melt the flesh off your bones in the blink of an eye."

Bilbo closed the contract and made a small whimpering sound before bending his knees and trying to calm himself. "Feel a bit faint," he admitted and stood up.

Bofur either oblivious to the Hobbit's discomfort, or needlessly cruel, stood up to add more to his description to Smaug the Terrible. "Think furnace with wings."

"I need air—"

"Flash of light, searing pain, then poof. You're nothin' more than a pile of ash."

Bilbo stood, looking at the wall and sighing through his nose. After shifting on the spot for a moment or two, he finally concluded his thought.

"Nope," and in an instant, Bilbo Baggins was on the floor.

* * *

 **I'm sorry this chapter seemed rather redundant, but it was a scene that I wanted to write. I hope you did read it, even if you sped through it, because I do reveal a little bit of Bellamy's past and why Thorin doesn't like him. And also explain why they didn't just use Bellamy as the burglar instead of Bilbo.**

 **Since this isn't the Thranduil chapter you've been waiting for, the next chapter will be posted soon, in about 2 days? Seems good?**

 **Happy Readings xox**

 **qtj**

 **ps. There's a PSA that all writers should read in my profile updates.**


	7. vi - Her Funny Language

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 _ **Ernil** \- Prince  
_ _ **Quel amrun** \- Good Morning  
_ _ **Nethwen** \- Young Lady/Maiden  
_ _ **Auta miqula orqu** \- Go kiss an orc  
_ _ **Llie n'vanima ar' Ile atara lanneina** \- You're ugly and your mother dresses you funny  
_ _ **Dolle naa lost** \- Your head is empty  
_ [Spanish] _**El burro sabe más que to** \- A donkey knows more than you  
_ ** _Mithlond_** \- Grey Havens

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

 _Peter Facinelli_ as Sírdaer  
 _Jamie Campbell Bower_ as Rhovanor

 **Author's Notes:**

 **I promised I'd get this chapter out shortly after ch. 5! Also, just want to point out that Arielle does say something in Spanish here, and I want to apologies if I don't translate it properly. For all my Spanish speaking readers, please let me know if I got anything wrong. (:**

* * *

 **CHAPTER VI  
** _Her Funny Language_

* * *

' _Day 406 —_

 _It has been a weird ride here in the Mirkwood, Bellamy. The King Thranduil initially started unkindly to me for no reason, but I was reminded of how you told the stories about him. Cold, and distant to strangers. He's rather close to the elves he does know, especially to Tharnor. Who just so happens to be the person I need to rob._

 _As luck would have it, he is rather smitten with me. When I told Maeleth, she was rather impressed at how easily I had infiltrated the Chancellor's trust. Though, she doesn't particularly like him for some reason. It might not take as long as I thought to obtain the deed to this land, but there is still the matter of obtaining Faervel's Pendent. It isn't like I can go around asking people where it is… and the only person that I know would know where it is, is, well… King Thranduil.'_

There was knocking at Arielle's bedchamber door, though it was light enough for Arielle to ignore. Her quill was racing across the page as she wrote under the glow of a lantern at her desk. She missed the sunlight, but alas in the Halls sunlight was only provided in some locations, namely near the highest lofts. Still, she missed waking up to the sun kissing her eyes, as much as she missed the comfort the night gave her.

The knocking grew louder, making Arielle's writing stop and throw a look over her shoulder, "Come in."

Unsurprisingly, Maeleth walked in already dressed in a gown that glittered gold against a canvas of forest green. She gave Arielle one look and scoffed at the state of her underdress, and then leaned against the door like a haughty mother. "You are still not dressed? Breakfast has already been served in our quarters. You must eat now, because we're expected at the courtyard."

"Expected by _who?_ "

Maeleth's tongue moved around her mouth, and her eyes shifted around the room, making it obvious that she was avoiding Arielle's growing stony expression. "A few of the Woodland Court…"

"Legolas asked, didn't he?" Arielle placed her hand on the back of her chair, peering at the elleth through her eyelashes.

"Legolas will be there, yes," she pushed her hair behind her shoulder and then floated over to the bed and sat upon the nearest spot to the desk. "I'm sorry, but I cannot be alone with him after…" she sighed deeply.

"What did he say? You haven't told me since that dinner."

"Nothing of significance," her eyes looked down at the floor and then her fingers. "He apologizes… and explained that he had came to senses that day when he realized we were being foolishly impulsive in our youth."

"That was his reason to leave you?"

"Yes—no, I mean… He said he couldn't face me," she shook her head and looked defeated. "He suggested that we pretended the event never happened, and I— I _stupidly_ asked that perhaps now that we were _older_ we could continue what we had together—"

"— Maeleth!" Arielle lifted her arm from the chair in exasperation. "You did not ask that. Wasn't it not two days ago you were telling me you cannot stand him, and now you're throwing yourself at him?"

"Forgive me, but I cannot—It is one thing to say you resent a past lover, another to keep to that opinion when you see him again. I was reminded when I first looked at him of all the _good_ memories that we shared," she stood up in a fluid motion, walking around the room with her arms crossed. "It matters not. He said it would not be wise that we courted, and that he no longer harbours the same feelings he once did."

"Then why are we to meet him at the courtyard?" Arielle held no sympathy for this. Maeleth's unconditional and unrequited love for the Elven Prince was her own problem, and she fuelled the problem by simply not moving on. The day after the dinner, Maeleth's conversations when she were alone with Arielle would always go back to Legolas. It was always a snide remark under her breath, or a comment about an elleth he was seen with. How could she possibly move on when the Greenleaf was always on her mind?

"We agreed to be civil with each other, and to become friends at least. Plus, he regrets not formally meeting you, which is why you _must_ come."

"Why _must_ I meet him?" Arielle's interest did not come with Legolas. His behaviour contrasted the book in the moments she had seen him; he greatly reminded her of a teenage boy with a rich father.

"Well, he _is_ the King's son! What better person to talk to if you wish to gain knowledge of the whereabouts of the pendent _and_ perhaps the deed. Maybe you wouldn't _need_ to associate yourself with Tharnor if you grow a friendship with the prince."

Arielle didn't entirely understand why Maeleth didn't like Tharnor's closeness to her. It was, after all, her _job_ and she was well aware of it. Initially, she was rather impressed by the quick work the thief did in regards to locating, befriending, and ensnaring the chancellor in such a short period of time. Though the next day, which Arielle primarily spent with Tharnor, Maeleth's opinion of him had shifted quite a bit. When Arielle asked, she simply said he didn't act like a proper elf, to which Arielle responded that neither was _she._

"I highly doubt Legolas is aware of any of the chancellor's affairs, Maeleth. You only wish me to befriend the prince for your own gain, I wager," Arielle would have used the word 'wingman', but it would be lost on the she-elf. It was rather tiring to be aware of her own tongue, and make sure she did not use a word or phrase unknown here. It took a whole year for her own speech to formalize to the one of this world.

"That is not—" Maeleth huffed, then shut her eyes as she tried to calm herself. "Get dressed… There are new dresses for you in the wardrobe. When you're done, I'll braid your hair while you eat, so we can make it downstairs on time."

When the older elf left the room, Arielle let a long sigh before pushing herself up from the table. Before she went into the wardrobe to fetch what ever dress she would be put in for the day, she quickly closed her journal, and wrapped it in her undergarments, then put it in her bag. She hoped that elves had the decency not to go rummaging into people's things, much less their private wear. Spinning around, she ran a hand through her hair as she pried open the wardrobe door, and then deadpanned at the dresses.

The very first one she saw was a pastel pink frock with very long sleeves and a long trail. Arielle had no intention of wearing that dress _ever_ so she quickly shoved it to the corner of the wardrobe, and tried to find another dress that would fit for a stroll in the courtyard. She decided on a simple satin green with gold trim and belt, knowing that she would match Maeleth, and hopefully the less impressive dress would make her invisible.

She quickly got dressed and then slipped on slippers before exiting her bedchamber and into the living quarters, where Maeleth awaited her with a brush and a slender rod to help her braid. She gave one look at Arielle and then tilted her head, "I was hoping you would wear the pink one."

"No- not ever. I would rather go outside naked," Arielle stated and then slipped into the chair that sat in front of a squat table with breakfast upon it.

"You're too much of a man," Maeleth sighed before grabbing a handful of Arielle's brown hair and yanking her back. "Rustic colours delude your beauty, which you actually _have_ by the way."

"Was it my good looks that gained Tharnor's interest?" Arielle asked with an air of disinterest, now that her hands were on food. She practically inhaled the strawberries, wetting her lips with the red stain.

"That, and he has a particular interest in youthful elleth," she muttered as her fingers weaved the brown strands. "A century is an ancient age to a man, but in the eyes of an elf, you are barely eighteen years old."

Arielle winced; she did not like being in the category as a teenager. She was twenty-seven… so how old would that make her in elf years? 2000? She couldn't begin to understand. "Don't most creatures of the male persuasion prefer youthful women?"

"I assume your ignorance is due to the fact that you have been spending your time with men… It is unseemly for an elf, especially as one as old as Tharnor, to seek out the affections of an elf who just past their age of adulthood— or young adulthood."

"Why?" Arielle asked, picking at her teeth to remove a thread of orange.

"Well, there are many reasons. Namely that the elder would surely want to depart west soon, and they would leave their younger mate to possibly thousands of years of loneliness."

"Do elves not remarry?" Arielle attempted to look over her shoulder, but Maeleth yanked her head back straight.

"No, it is not the will of the Valar. Elves marry once, and once only, whether for love or for political means. Well, there _have_ been a few I've met over the years that have loved again, but there's only been one elf who had remarried, King Finwë, though he had to get the permission of the Valar. It is believed that while our bodies may die, our spirits do not… and therefore, an elf will always be married to them."

"Still, that seems like an awfully lonely existence," Arielle mused as she spat out a cherry pit. "To be only allowed to marry once, and not allow yourself to love again."

Maeleth paused her work and peered over her shoulder, "Have you ever loved someone?"

Arielle shifted in her seat uncomfortably, "Define love…"

The older elf rolled her eyes and continued braiding her hair, "I could only imagine what you define love as," She shook her head and sighed, "Perhaps Tharnor is the best match for you."

"I take insult to your insinuation," Arielle turned over her shoulder, despite it pausing Maeleth's work on her hair. "I am not a traditional elf, Maeleth. You better get used to it, because I wager that a lot of elves feel the same way."

"If there are elves that feel that way, then they remain silent for their own good," there was vice in her voice and her grip as she yanked Arielle's hair back so she could fix the mistake she made. "We have our reasons for the way we view marriage and sex, Arielle. It will not change, ever."

Arielle rolled her eyes, and stuck out her tongue in disgust at the traditionalism that radiated off of Maeleth. The thief didn't expect it from the elleth, but how could she be surprised? If Tharnor was an untraditional elf, then surely Arielle and him would get along. At least it would make the job more tolerable to do. Too bad that she couldn't keep the friendship, should it come to that, after she gets the deed. Unless he found some respect in her skill, but she doubted that would happen.

She had finished her breakfast before Maeleth had finished her hair, and it was probably because she kept on making mistakes from her sour mood. Arielle's head was sore from all the tugging and pulling in the aggressive way the elf-maiden treated her hair.

Finally she snapped and pulled away, "That's enough, by the time you're done, I won't have any hair left." She reached behind her head to see where she left off. There was an intricate design on the top of her head, though the braids that cascaded down her back were loose at the ends.

"Just let me—"

"It's fine," Arielle shot her a look and took an apple as she made her way towards the door, and then took a large bite out of it. "Letsth go shee Legolash the Fine-Ath," she said with a mouth full of apple.

"What?" Maeleth came up behind her and wretched the apple from her hand and tossed it over her shoulder. "Don't talk with your mouth full," the elleth pulled open the door.

"I was eating that—!"

"Have I come at the wrong time?" Legolas's befuddled face looked between the two brunettes.

Maeleth's demeanour changed dramatically when she saw the prince at their door. Her face smoothed as a smile replaced her scowl, and her hands folded in front of her. Arielle rolled her eyes and drew another apple from thin air and took a bite of it. The sound of the crunch made Maeleth's wide eyes turn to Arielle; her annoyance being toyed with, but caught in a position where she has to keep her composure.

"We were just leaving, my lord," Arielle said for her after swallowing the bit in her mouth. She gave a small bow of her head, "Apologies if we were running late."

"That is fine," Legolas sized up Arielle with some amusement and a kind smile. "I believe we haven't been formally introduced. We both know each others names, but we haven't heard it from our own lips," he gave a gentlemanly bow to the young elleth while keeping his kind smile in place. "I am Legolas Greenleaf, son of King Thranduil."

Arielle curtsied like Maeleth had told her to do when addressing nobility and royalty, "and I am Arielle Warden of the Greywater."

Legolas laughed, but Maeleth surely didn't. Her cheeks flushed as her eyes casted briefly to Legolas and then settled in a scowl at Arielle.

"That- _That_ is _not_ your name," Her chest swelled irritably.

"It sounds a lot better than _the Lionheart,_ " Arielle challenged, biting into the apple, allowing the juice to dribble down her chin, which about sent her lady right off the edge.

"Forgive her, my lord," Maeleth huffed as she pulled a handkerchief from an invisible pocket of her dress. As she wiped the juice from the protesting ward's chin, "She has been particularly cheeky today. I also blame her upbringing."

 _I blame my upbringing as well,_ Arielle thought bitterly. Maeleth made an attempt to grab the apple but failed; the entire scenario seemed rather amusing to the prince, though, because he did not seem at all bothered by it.

"It is alright, Maeleth. I have heard her story, and believe that while her rearing was different than ours, I do not think it is something to apologize for. I find the manners of men to be quite charming."

Arielle grinned, "You were right — I do like him."

Maeleth rolled her tongue in her mouth, but smiled anyway, "Yes, I suppose you are right, Legolas. Still, it would be beneficial for both of us if she would adopt some manners."

"I don't see anything wrong; from what I've witnessed at the feast the other day, she was quite the proper lady, if not a little loose-lipped."

Arielle smiled guilty, "I _did_ have a bit to drink. I'm not used to Elvish wine… it is quite strong."

Legolas grinned and looked down at his feet, "Yes, my father prefers stronger spirits. That was his favourite vintage; I am surprised that you didn't pass out from one glass, to be honest. Though it was refreshing, none the less, to see someone stand up to my father."

"He's not been a friend of mine since my arrival," Arielle admitted. "Hopefully his pride wasn't too hurt."

"He will survive, I'm sure," the prince then offered both his arms. "Shall we go, my ladies?"

 _What a gentlemen,_ Arielle accepted the arm, and then Maeleth took his other one. She was being particularly quiet, and the thief wondered what she could possibly be thinking about. Maeleth _wanted_ Arielle to be chummy with Legolas, but she couldn't help but wonder if she got a little jealous at how easy the prince took a liking to the ward, despite her shortcomings.

That's the last thing Arielle wanted right now; high school drama.

The walk towards the courtyard was filled with idle chatter, mostly between Arielle and Legolas, which the former was starting to find irritating. Maeleth's silence was unlike her, and she wished she was close enough to her to give her a pinch. Though they got to the courtyard before Arielle could devise a plan to do just that.

The courtyard was in a vast area high up in Thranduil's halls, with no ceiling so the light of day could be seen. It was like a massive grotto with a field full of trees and flowers. In the centre was a beautiful waterfall that gently fell into a large oval shaped pool that was bordered with stones and statues, and then led into a river that flowed across the field and over the edge on the other end of the yard. A small bridge went over it, along with a slight incline of a hill. A statue of a she-elf stood before the bridge, holding a water jug that poured itself into a birdbath. There was a modest path that was partially covered in the grass on the floor that led through the courtyard and looped around specific areas, like a wooden gazebo with a roof of branches and grape vines. There were many benches under beautiful lush trees, and then there was one massive weeping willow on the far end of the courtyard that reached well above the grotto's roof.

It was probably the most beautiful place that Arielle had ever seen since she had arrived, and that included the beauty that was the kingdom already. It just seemed so completely tranquil there, that it was hard to keep any negative motion she had gotten that morning.

 _Who knew such beauty was in such a dark forest?_ Arielle's eyes never stopped roaming the courtyard, for every time she casted her eyes somewhere, she would find something new.

The thief took a long intake of air as they walked, wishing that she could steal this place if it were possible. She realized that they were heading towards the gazebo, and that she also realized that others were there as well. Instantly she saw the shockingly silver hair of the King himself, who sat upon yet another grand chair, this time it was made of slender aspen wood. It looked as if the branches themselves actually grew into the intricate design before arching at the tip; there were even tiny leaves on it. Thranduil was wearing off-white light flowing robes with glittering trim, his sleeves falling all the way to the floor, but the material looked like it was made out of the very fibres of feathers. The closer she got, she noticed small diamonds encrusting his collar, shoulders, and around his wrists.

In fact, Arielle was so taken back by the angelic appearance that she almost didn't even notice the others that sat with him. She recognized Sírdaer, Elanoriel's father, though she didn't recognize the other. He was clearly much younger than the King and the other ellon, but seemed _too_ relaxed. Arielle also did not recognize him to be anyone of court, who she had seen the first day at the feast. Speaking of which, Tharnor seemed to be vacant, and that put a damper on Arielle's mood somewhat. That was purely the only reason why she was in this social gathering to begin with.

It was Thranduil who first saw them approach, though he remained silent as his eyes lingered on Arielle. There was a narrowness to them that she wasn't overly fond of; it seemed like he still held her in low regards, and by the look he gave his son, did not like her being so close to the prince.

Sídaer looked up from a scroll he had been reading and then smiled when saw who approached the gazebo. He stood up out of politeness, "Good morning, _Ernil_ Legolas, Maeleth, and Lady Arielle."

"Just Arielle, please," the youngest pleaded. "Being a ward shouldn't grant me a title."

Maeleth detached herself from Legolas' arms and sighed, "She is modest… Such things are foreign to her. It is a good morning, uncle, thank you." She turned to King Thranduil and curtseyed and gave him a good morn as well. Arielle was pulled to her side and, once again, mimicked her mistress's actions.

" _Quel amrun,_ " Thranduil nodded at the two, and then turned to his son. "I had thought you had slept in when Rhovanor here arrived before you did."

The elf that Arielle was not familiar with seemed to snap back into reality in the middle of sipping tea. He looked over his shoulder and stood up suddenly, "Legolas! I wasn't sure if we were meeting here or not… and ladies, apologies for my rudeness, I was lost in thought."

Rhovanor was a joyous character by the first appearance; his smile stretched from ear to ear when he saw Legolas, and interestingly enough, he had a rather relaxed appearance to him. His attire was less fashionable, so he was likely of no one of importance. The only explanation of him being in the present company was that he was a friend of someone's. Obviously the Prince's, at the way he greeted him.

"Lady Maeleth, it is a pleasure to see you again. And Lady Arielle… I finally get the pleasure to meet you at last. Apologies again, I was in the wood the last few days, though I have heard much since I returned last night," his hands were humbly clasped behind his back, his cheeks tinting a shade of pink as he became flustered. He seemed young, but if he knew Maeleth, then he surely wasn't, though he was not very eloquent with speaking which made Arielle think otherwise.

"You heard much of me?" Arielle rose an eyebrow and gave an accusatory look at Legolas, who seemed oblivious.

Rhovanor did notice the look and gave a soft chuckle, "My friend did share some words, but what I've heard mostly came from my uncle. You know him as Chancellor Tharnor."

"I didn't know he had a nephew," Arielle mused, this being news. Then again, yesterday Tharnor seldom talked about himself, she now realized.

"He doesn't brag about me, so I am not surprised," Rhovanor gave a half smile at that response.

Once everyone was seated, tea was served to Arielle, Maeleth and Legolas. There was a squat table in the centre with a glass top, exposing the polished wooden floor underneath, though the actual table was made out of aspen wood much like the King's chair. The other seats were made out of white wicker and circled around the table of tea and snacks. There was plenty of room in the gazebo that the chairs provided. There were two love seats, two armchairs, and one chaise lounge chair. To Thranduil's right sat Legolas in an armchair, then followed Maeleth and Arielle in a love seat, and finally Rhovanor. To Thranduil's left was the chaise lounge chair that was vacant, and then lastly alone in a love seat with his scrolls and parchments was Sírdaer.

The elves began to talk in Sindarin, leaving Arielle utterly out of place. The only thing she could do was sit with her tea, sipping softly and wishing that it was wine instead. Her eyes fluttered around to each elf that spoke in turn, hoping to catch words she understood, but to no avail. She made the fatal mistake of looking towards Thranduil when he spoke, because she never realized how soothing his voice actually was, especially when he spoke in his native tongue. Arielle found herself openly staring, her eyes on his lips, and then… she was caught red-handed.

"Lady Arielle, you look so intently, but as I recall you do not speak our tongue," Thranduil drawled, his head tilted as he peered at her through his lashes.

"You are correct, m'lord," Arielle easily admitted. "I do know a few words and phrases… I was merely seeing if I could catch any of the words that I knew."

"What words have you learned so far, _nethwen_?" Sídaer asked politely, his fatherly smile easing Arielle somewhat. Maeleth's family must have had that calmness gene running through their family, because his smile was so easy to accept that Arielle felt a little more confident in the spotlight.

"Well, to be honest…" Arielle bit her lip to stop herself from grinning, "I have only learned phrases that I have only ever needed to use."

"Such as?"

The thief looked at Maeleth, who caught her eye and immediately knew what phrases Arielle was talking about. However, before her lady could stop her, Arielle's tongue went lose, " _Auta miqula orqu. Llie n'vanima ar' Ile atara lanneina. Dolle naa lost_."

There was a chorus of laughter, much to Maeleth's surprise. Arielle would have been shocked that Sídaer laughed as well, but she was more caught off at the large smirk on Thranduil's face.

"The most important phrases, to be sure," Rhovanor commented, his wide smile contagious that Arielle couldn't help but grin as well.

"It has come quite handy over time…" she admitted, only now recalling where she had learned it from. Technically it was spoken to her by one of her own kin several times, but it was Alf who translated it for her. The man knew quite a bit about the elven culture, which surprised her, though she never asked how.

"So, truly, the only tongue you speak is Westron?" Rhovanor asked politely.

"Well, no. I do speak another language, though none of you could possibly—"

"You doubt our knowledge?" Thranduil raised an eyebrow. "I, myself, speak many tongues of, many of which are no longer spoken to this day. You could _not_ possibly know a tongue that I do not know."

Arielle kept at ease, and a smile in place as she simply replied, " _El burro sabe más que to."_

Thranduil's brow furrowed and his mouth opened a fraction, and everyone remained silent. Arielle was positive they did not understand what she said, though there was some doubt based on how everyone reacted. _I suppose…I could have executed more politely,_ she thought, realizing that despite them not understanding Spanish, obviously, it was how she said it.

After a moment of unnerving silence, at last the king leaned back and an eased smile on his lips. "A fabrication, I am sure. Clever, but you cannot think I can see past a fake language?"

It was Arielle's turn to furrow her brow and open her mouth. Was this his way to counter act her? By making her look like a childish idiot instead? She put down her teacup and relaxed in her seat as well, "It is no fake language, my lord. I promise you, this is true. I've learned it from a man who…" she trailed off, before she decided the right words, "… _claimed_ to be not of Middle Earth."

Maeleth slightly turned to look at her, her face thoroughly confused, and that was when Arielle realized that she forgot there were two lies of her life she must obtain. The one that she and her companion made up, and the one she made up the day she arrived, which was the one Maeleth knew.

"It is not wise to lie in the presence of a king, Lady Arielle," he mockingly chastised. "There is no such tongue in all of Arda that resembles —"

"Pardon my interruption, my king," Sídaer meekly spoke, looking at Arielle before turning to Thranduil. "Truly, but I believe there _is_ a language that resembles such as that… I am not an expert as such things, but I recall meeting someone along the road on my way to Mithlond the previous year… We exchanged several words, though I remember him saying something under his breath in a language that sounded most like that one."

Arielle's ears perked, her eyes widened a fraction and her back straightened. Her sudden burst of interest hadn't gone unnoticed, especially by Maeleth and King Thranduil. "Do you remember this man's name?"

"He never mentioned it," the ellon gave a light shrug, "But he was a dwarf bard, if you believe it. And a little _thief_ as well. I didn't realize it until I reached Mithlond, but two rings from my fingers were missing."

Arielle was overcome with so much emotion at that moment. Everyone in the room seemed to be muffled out as her heart beat quickly in her ribcage. Her thoughts were scattered everywhere as if trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces. _Dwarf? Though that isn't…I'm an elf… He's alive! I can't believe he's alive! Mithlond…that is so far away. I can't believe he's a dwarf…but oh, god, he's alive!_

"Lady Arielle, are you alright?" Rhovanor asked, his hand on the top of her arm. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Thranduil's eyes peered at her, suspicion radiated off of him that Maeleth took notice of. Though Arielle remained shocked by this new information, so the older elleth had to take the reigns for her, fabricating a lie that should surely explain her current state.

"It seems she is a bit shocked, uncle," she put her hand on Arielle's hand which was folded on her lap. "This was a dear friend of hers, she's mentioned. Perhaps that stranger you saw was him—"

"… I didn't know…" Arielle found herself saying under a whisper. She suddenly blinked and stood up, "If you will excuse me. I think I just need a moment."

Arielle didn't wait to be excused, she stood up and left the gazebo with no direction in particular. There were many other elves in the courtyard, but it was so vast and consumed by nature that it was easy to disappear behind a tree or statue without bumping into anyone. The sun was suddenly blocked, and that was when she realized that she was under the massive weeping willow.

There was an old bench made of stone that sat between the large roots, and a quaint pond nearby; she could hear the croaks of the frogs and the bloops the water made when they dove in. Sitting on the bench she vaguely saw fish in there, but she was far to preoccupied with her thoughts, and trying to suppress the tense feeling her nose gave her. Why cry? Happiness or hopelessness? There was no other person that Sídaer could be talking about, yet there was a seed of doubt that was probably the root of her sadness. She spent a whole year believing that she might never see him again, and this, of all times, was the first time she heard an inkling of his whereabouts. Was it fate that drew her here? To meet the one person nearest to her that could shed some light to her one and only family? What were the chances that the client she had met, who's uncle lived in the city she was supposed to sneak into, who _happened_ to bump into a dwarf who spoke a language that Arielle had no intention of ever using in this world?

Arielle buried her face in her hands and breathed heavily, and then she found herself caught in a very hard position. Every fibre of her being wanted to leave Mirkwood all together, gather onto her horse and ride through the Misty Mountains and find him. It certainly wouldn't be hard, based on the description, to find a _dwarf_ who was a bard as well as a thief. Especially if she networked through Alf…but if she abandoned this job, there was no way Alf would give her any information, let alone keep her in his guild. Arielle had also already committed, she had past the point of no return and it would look suspicious for both her and Maeleth if she left mysteriously one night. That still did not palliate her need to jump off from this bench and sprint out of this place like Forest Gump running across country.

"Why is it that when ever I see you, I grow frustrated, and then even more so when you open your mouth?"

That was a voice that Arielle really did not want to hear at that moment; the last person she wanted to be conversing with when her mind was clouded with questions. She kept her face buried in her hands and didn't bother regarding him, or making sure he was alone. She hadn't heard a second party approach, but then again even with ears like hers it was hard to hear an elf approach. Especially someone who was as light on his feet as the King of the Greenwood.

"May I ask why you sought me out if the sight of me frustrates you so?" She asked with her palms firmly placed over her eyes.

"Because," he began and Arielle felt a presence next to her as he sat upon the bench with her. That act itself let her release her face to give him a side glance. "My frustration stems from not knowing _who_ you are. I've heard your story, _Arielle_ , though I don't entirely believe it, or perhaps there is more to it than what you have told us or to Maeleth for that matter."

 _Guess he's not as dumb as I thought he was,_ the thief sat up, eyes looking at his profile. "That frustrates you?"

"Mmm," he was staring at the pond nearby, his eyes nearly unreadable, though Arielle saw something stirring beneath them. "I don't make it a habit to be ignorant to those who resident in my realm, especially those who call themselves friend. Even more so those who call themselves foe," At that moment he turned his face and caught Arielle's gaze. It was so steely blue that she found it hard to keep the gaze and leave it at the same time. "What do you call yourself?"

At first she didn't know what he was asking, but she realized that he was asking her if she could be trusted. That was a heavy question to answer and to make it look genuine, so she tried to exercise the tip that Bellamy had told her to do when lying. Tell the truth, but not the right truth. He wanted to know if he was a friend or foe, and the truth was both: She needed to be his friend, she wanted to be his friend, albeit for deceitful reasons. She was a foe should she get caught, surely she wouldn't, thanks to the Stone of Nyx, but it wasn't like she switch to being an enemy. After she obtains what she needs, she is impartial.

Arielle licked her bottom lip and peered at him, hoping to catch any twitch of a reaction, "Which would you prefer me to be? A friend, or foe?"

The question brought him some amusement, because the corner of his lip twitched as he turned back to the pond, "Your audacity is quite charming. You give me choice? Hmm, it would easier if you were a foe… because I would keep you in a cell until I figured out what to do with you. Though, a friend? Your attitude makes it difficult."

"That makes two of us," she found herself saying without filtering. Her fingers curled underneath the bench, bracing herself for what ever lashing she assumed she would get from her comment.

Thranduil noticed her tenseness, though despite her expectations, he did not react to her comment at all. "You mustn't be so stressed, Lady Arielle. I am not as they say outside the woods, and if you are willing to make amends, I am willing to see you as a friend of the Woodland Realm."

"Even without knowing entirely who I am?" She watched him closely.

"Yes, well," he drawled, giving a light shrug, "It takes time to know someone, and you will not be journeying back with Maeleth any time within the year. I believe I have enough time to know you… and your funny language."

Arielle couldn't help but grin at his last comment, looking foreword towards the pond as well. Then she started to chuckle as an image popped into her head.

"What are you laughing at?"

"I just imagined myself, a little elleth, teaching the Elvenking a language," she pinched the bridge of her nose as this little image persisted, and then another image of her sending a sassy Thranduil to the corner with a dunce hat. She snorted and then covered her mouth.

"You know, you should laugh more," he mused. "You don't often do, but it is quite charming…"

"Are you actually complimenting me?"

"I suppose I am…"

She felt a little bit warm at her cheeks from the compliment. Then she rolled her tongue against her teeth, not knowing how to respond to that. Finally, she looked at him only briefly to say, " _Gracias._ "

Thranduil rose a brow, "And what does that mean?"

"It means 'thank you'."

"Ah, well…there is one word that I know," he mused just before he stood up from the bench. "I think our company is starting to wonder where we are. Besides, your suitor is waiting for you with them…"

There was a bit of a bite in the last thing Thranduil said took her slightly off guard that she almost didn't register what he said. Once she did, a look of pure confusion crossed her face, " _Suitor_?!"

Thranduil cooly looked over his shoulder as he halted just before leaving the canopy of the willow, "Tharnor. Or have you forgotten him already?"

 _I did._

* * *

 **Alright, not much happened in this chapter save for what Arielle found out about Bellamy. However, it does have a little I guess foreshadowing in this chapter, because I do pay attention to two certain things in particular that are significant in the future. Also, I feel like I needed to talk about something on here, but for the life of me, I can't remember.**

 **Ah, well.**

 **Anyways, I added some pictures including cast in the Pinterest board. Take a look, link in the profile, as always.**

 **Happy Readings xox**

 **QTJ**


	8. vii - Her Dinner Plans

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **NAME PRONOUNCATIONS  
** * Most of these names are generated, so the pronunciations of these names are my assumptions based on certain accents, and how elves pronounce certain letters together. If I'm wrong in the elvish names, please inform me. Otherwise, this is how I pronounce their names *

 **ARIELLE** = are - e - elle (Not like the mermaid ;p )  
 **BELLAMY** = bell - ah - me  
 **MAELETH** = me - leth  
 **THARNOR** = _thaw_ \- nor (the r's are light)  
 **GUTHBRAND** = gooth - brund  
 **GWAEDHON** = gwee - thon  
 **FAELDIR** = fail - dear  
 **ELANORIEL** = e - lannor - ree - elle  
 **SÍRDAER** = seer - dur  
 **RHOVANOR** = rov - ah - nor  
 **FAERVEL** = fair - vul

 **Author's Note:**

Here, have more Thranduil one on one. Lol. Sorry if this seems to be going a bit slow, but with the direction I'm going, I don't want immediate bonding. Typically, when two people don't like each other, they don't spend time with each other. Chapter six was supposed to show that they can be civil with each other and came to an agreement. Chapter Eight is sort of my... tipping scale chapter, and then after you'll get to meet my new OC :)

* * *

 **CHAPTER VII  
** _Her Dinner Plans_

* * *

Arielle walked with the King back to the gazebo, where she heard the talking of another elf she knew was Tharnor. She was still rolling the whole 'suitor' thing in her mind, and she had hoped that it was just a jest. Tharnor was talking in Sindarin and laying casually in the lounge chair, and by the smiles on everyone's faces, he was telling an amusing story. Though he stopped upon seeing the two approach and immediately stood up.

"I found your sweetheart, Chancellor," Thranduil drawled, causing Arielle to send him a galled look from behind.

Tharnor laughed as he walked around the table to meet them both, "You jest, my king, but I am afraid it worries the girl. You may ease yourself, Lady Arielle, he says such things because he knows my fondness for you." He took her hands when he said that.

Thranduil, "Mmm'd" unenthusiastically as he walked around him and to his chair in the centre.

Arielle's eyes followed the king's back before she looked at Tharnor, "You're very blunt," she said with some amusement. "Though I am relieved that I didn't get hoodwinked into a relationship under my nose."

He laughed, his grin devilish, albeit handsome, it still held a hidden motive that Arielle was all to aware of. She briefly looked at Maeleth who caught her gaze, and in that split second, it spoke volumes. _Guess she was right about him,_ Arielle mused. Though she supposed it was appropriately ironic…she _was_ using him for something as well, so it would be a good idea to play his game while she played behind the scenes in her own scheme.

"I would at least try to _woo_ you before any of that could unfold, " Tharnor replied cheekily. Arielle could practically _hear_ the eye roll Maeleth gave, and she couldn't blame her. He was being overly chivalrous and for a lack of a better word, _corny._ The ellon took her hand and guided her further into the gazebo, "Come, sit with me. I was just retelling a story from my youth."

"You never mentioned how old you were then," Maeleth said as Arielle sat in the lounge chair and leaned back into the back and side rest. Tharnor joined next to her, crossing his leg under him and draping an arm on the back of the lounge chair, so to wrap around Arielle's shoulders. He was very close, and Maeleth took note of that as she regarded him when he answered.

"Oh, well, I had turned of age a little while before that, so I must have been over a century old at least," he mused, letting his fingers touch Arielle's shoulder from behind.

Although it did not bother _her_ , Maeleth was a little more unforgiving. "So, about the same age as Arielle, then?" She asked as she raised her tea to her lips, the bite in her tone wasn't unnoticed.

"Indeed," Tharnor's eyes narrowed a fraction, his head tilting a bit.

"How long ago would that be? About… 4500 years, roughly?"

"Maeleth…" Arielle sent her a warning look, "Don't be rude."

"No, no, it is fine," Tharnor smiled at his companion and touched her shoulder reassuringly. "I know what she is implying, and it is true…" He looked down guilty. "The age gap is taboo… I am no traditional elf, though I understand if you feel differently."

Rhovanor spoke, but not for long, "Uncle, this isn't the—"

Somehow, Arielle knew what the younger elf was going to say, but she had to play her role, and play it well. "No, please. Rhovanor, you don't need to explain… It is fine. As you know, I didn't grow up the elven way, so I'm not traditional. Age is just but a number, especially with our kind."

Arielle's response surely made Tharnor quite happy, though annoyed Maeleth, even though her face was nearly unreadable. It was quite obvious to the younger she-elf, especially after their conversation this morning.

"I am truly lucky to have found an elleth like you," Tharnor smiled as he openly gazed at Arielle, who did her best to appear the crushing school girl.

"So, is this official?" Asked Thranduil, who stared into his empty tea cup.

"Is what off—" Arielle was interrupted by the ellon who sat next to her.

"I suppose it is, _mellon nîn,"_ Tharnor grinned, and Arielle blanched.

 _I didn't sign up for a suitor!_ Her thoughts screamed. _Jesus fucking christ, he was just supposed to fancy me a bit before I cut him off._ Her eyes screamed, but no one seemed to notice…except for the King at her left, but he remained silent.

—

Arielle had been in the living quarters of the suite she shared with Maeleth alone that evening. She hadn't expected the older elleth to come back until late that night, as she had plans with her uncle and cousin at their abode. Arielle would have attended, but she felt like she needed to be alone that evening, away from idle small talk and continuous questions about her past that Elanoriel would surely ask.

Instead Arielle took this moment of solitude to get some work done, and to be a bit more herself. She laid down on the couch next to the balcony, humming as she drew a map in her journal. She hadn't explored the entirety of Thranduil's halls, but she had a photographic memory and was able to draw what she knew, and additionally add halls that she hadn't ventured in. She had four pages, back to back, filled with areas of Thranduil's halls, and by then her fingers were black from the kohl and her face was smudged from pushing back her hair when it got in her face. Overall, she looked like a she was out mining in kohl mines when she decided she was done with outlining the courtyard.

The thief stretched out her back and subconsciously looked over the railing of the balcony where she could see the throne room, which was vacant. It was incredibly tempting to run down to it and sit on the throne, acting like she was king of the world as Thranduil did, but it wouldn't be very satisfying if no one saw her, or if she couldn't take a selfie.

 _Another day,_ she concluded before standing up and closing her journal and briefly went to her bedchamber to place it back in the secret spot. From in the room she heard a gentle knock from the suite door, and she furrowed her brow to who that could be. She hadn't eaten yet, though she had planned on taking a basket to the kitchens to grab something, though she wondered if Maeleth was one step a head of her and arranged for dinner to be served to her.

"Coming," she called before walking out of her bedroom and towards the double doors at the front. When she opened the door, she saw Baby Blue, to her surprise. "Can I help you?"

"Lady Arielle, you've received a letter from the Chancellor Tharnor," he presented the folded letter, to which she took.

"Say, I don't believe I caught your name," Arielle decided to give his name a shot, if she were to be staying here for a while, she might see him a third or fourth time.

"It's Laurëalassequen, m'lady," he said with a completely straight face.

Arielle peered at him for a moment, rolling her tongue along her teeth before she decided: _No. He's just gonna be Baby Blue._ "Pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said with a nod of her head.

He returned the nod, though before he left raised his finger up to his cheek, "You've got some kohl on your face, M'lady. Just there."

"Thanks," Arielle nodded, disgruntled at the reminder of her current state. "I have yet to wash up."

"There is a public bathing pools below the halls, reserved for nobility and their guests, Lady Arielle. Unless you wish for me to inform the hand-maidens to run a bath for you in your room?"

"No, that's fine… but thank you for the tip. I may just visit sometime soon."

He nodded again and left, leaving Arielle to her note. Closing the door she went back to the sitting area near the balcony and sat down in the same spot she was previously. Her dirty fingers unfolded the note in her hand, wondering what on earth did Tharnor wanted her at this hour.

' _Lady Arielle,_

 _I apologize if this is last minute, but I had just got out of a court meeting, and it struck me that we haven't been together without the company of others. If you don't mind me coming by to escort you to dinner, or a late night stroll if you had already ate. Though I understand if it is too late for a rendezvous, so I leave it up to you. If you allow me, please leave a candle on your balcony._

 _Regards,_

 _Tharnor.'_

Arielle's eyebrow rose at the entire note, right down to the whole candle bit. That was a rather romantic gesture that was also a bit _creepy_ now that she thought about it. It would mean that he was lingering somewhere within eye-shot of her balcony. Her eyes shifted to outside, looking over the halls, eyes scanning everywhere, but it was useless. If he was hiding, she wouldn't find him at the vastness of her view. He literally could be anywhere.

Though, still he would be looking at her right now, reading the letter. The thief internally smirked as she decided that she would tease him only a bit. After all, she did need to wash up and change her garb, and so she needn't put the candle at the balcony right away.

Arielle strolled over to her sleeping quarters, leaving the note on the couch, seemingly discarded like trash. After washing and scrubbing the kohl from her fingers and face, she went over to the wardrobe and failed to find a remotely close to anything that oozed sexuality. The pink gown glared at her once again and she stuck her tongue at it. Instead she took out a light teal dress, and shredded the extra material from underneath it, making it much more billowy and light. Putting it on confirmed her speculation that the light material would fall around her curves, betraying her nude figure underneath, but still protect her vanity. The sleeves were not actual sleeves; they were long, yes, but tied at the shoulder and then flowed from there all the way down to the hem of the dress.

After brushing out the braids in her hair, rubbing mint leafs on her teeth, she took a candle and lit it using the flint and steel she had near her bed. Arielle then walked over to the balcony, where she placed the candle. Now, all she had to do was wait. And wait she did.

 _This backfired, didn't it?_ She asked herself as she leaned against the arm chair at the balcony, watching the light of the candle flicker. It had been twenty minutes at least, and she knew it didn't take that long to get to her quarters. _He must have thought me leaving was a sign that I rejected his invitation._ She mentally scolded herself for taking her sweet ass time… And then got even more annoyed at the grumble of her stomach.

"Sorry, Tharnor, it is not my fault you couldn't wait ten minutes for me to change," She said out loud to herself before standing up to retrieve the candle. When she did, she caught sight of long silver hair walking down a corridor above the throne room. Thranduil seemed to feel her gaze and looked up at her, and gave her a slight nod of a greeting. Though he was far away, she knew that with elven eyes they could see distinctively, so she was positive that he caught the disappointed smile she gave him. Arielle returned the nod before blowing out the candle and walking off the balcony back to her quarters.

Deciding that since she was already dressed — even if her effort would be put to waste — she grabbed a basket and left to go to the kitchens to grab something to eat. Perhaps if the courtyard was vacant she could have a peaceful evening, eating a late dinner and watch the stars from there.

She had remembered the kitchens, the ones closest to the guest quarters, from the second night she had been there. Like mentioned before, Arielle had a photogenic memory, it made thieving a little more easier when you could memorize the way people's fingers moved to press their pin code at the bank teller. Or memorizing schematics of a building when you're trying to locate a safe or a valuable object. It made up for her dyslexia at least, and even though she had made much progress in that department, she still wished she could trade her photogenic memory to that of being able to read without having to look at the same sentence 10 times over.

When she got there, she greeted the kitchen maid and asked for some food. The maid gave a glance at the dress she was wearing, and Arielle wondered if she was thinking that she was coming down in her nightgown. When she left to go get food, the thief couldn't help but smirk to herself at the reaction. At least she got to show off this dress to _someone._

The kitchen maid filled her basket with lembas bread, grapes, cheese, olives, and a bowl with chopped lettuce, onions and other herbs, as well as a little bottle containing olive oil with spices and sea salt to drizzle over the salad. One thing Arielle learned earlier that year was that elves rarely ate meat, especially if they didn't need to. They entirely didn't need the nutrients, so vegetation was enough for them to live on in their day-to-day lives. The only exception is during festivals or special feats, dinners, or when they are travelling and need the sustenance. This suited her just fine, since she wasn't a huge meat eater to begin with, even before she came to Middle Earth. Bellamy was different, though, he would eat just about anything as long as you put it in front of him, and he was particularly fond of red meat.

She folded a blanket on top of the food and then Arielle departed after a short goodbye, then headed in the direction of the courtyard. It was rather quiet in the kingdom, which she thief was thankful for, since she was used to drunkards in Alf's tower playing cards and yelling at each other for cheating.

It took her about ten minutes to reach the courtyard, and when she entered she was overwhelmed by the serene look. It was even more vividly beautiful in the evening than it was during the day. The moonlight illuminated the area, lighting up the white cobblestones, statues, and aspen furniture. There were small lanterns scattered in significant places, like in the gazebo, or at the bridge, and then some benches. However there was one night, azure and teal in colour reflecting agains a canvas of silver just under the weeping willow at the far end of the courtyard.

Arielle didn't have to strain to see who it was sitting under the willow, since the brilliant field of colours reflected against his haunting profile. Thranduil was gazing into the pond, which was the source of the beautiful azure lights. Arielle couldn't help herself but approach the king, feeling a pull that drew her closer and closer, and it made her heart flutter for a unknown reason. It was unnerving, and she tried to pull away, but it was too late to summon the strength. He had heard her footsteps on the cobble stone when she crossed the bridge. There was a chance that he had heard her initially, but didn't think she would interrupt his solitude.

The light lit up his eyes under the shade of the willow, much like it did his silver hair. His stare was impassive, with no questions in them, though he asked one anyway, "What are you doing here at this time?"

The basket she was holding swung in front of her modestly, "I haven't eaten yet, and I didn't want to eat alone in my quarters so I thought I'd bring a basket here to eat by myself, under the stars."

He rose an eyebrow, "Is that the entire truth?"

She licked her lip and smirked a little bit, "Well, I initially wasn't going to be alone. Tharnor stood me up, unfortunately."

"I gathered when you blew out the candle."

"You knew what that was for?" She peered at him.

"A candle at the balcony isn't a new act of courtship. It wouldn't be the first time I've seen it being done…" he trailed off as he moved his eyes back into the luminous pond.

"Do you mind if I join you? I was intending to eat here in the first place… Unless you prefer to be alone…"

Thranduil's gaze shifted to the elleth in front of him and rose another brow, though the corner of his lip betrayed a smirk. "Suddenly you are polite? Has love soften your interior?"

Arielle rolled her eyes and sighed, "I can turn back into an unpleasant houseguest if that makes you feel better."

This time he did smile, albeit small, then nodded, "You may sit and eat your supper."

There was a vacant spot on the bench, though she had not intention in using it. Placing the basket down, she plopped right on the grass and took out the blanket and laid it in front of her. All the while, Thranduil looked at her curiously as she pulled out the salad, dressing, and various other things. Her face, like his, was lit up in blues and teals, as well as a bit of violet from the wondrous pond.

After a moment of silence, she finally asked, "Why does it glow like that?"

Slowly, the king turned his head back to the pond, "There are many theories…mostly folk tale told among elflings and youth."

"What are the stories?" she asked, glancing at him as she popped an olive in her mouth.

"The oldest one…the better known one that earned it's name: _Nîrenileithel_. It means The Prince's Tears," he voice sounded a bit grave, as if the title brought him great sadness. "The story goes that a prince fell in love with the moon, and every month when the new moon darkens the sky he would weep, and weep until finally his very soul spilled into this pond he created. When the moon is large in the sky, the moon's rays reflected against his soul and illuminate the night, happy to see the moon again."

Arielle was silent for a moment, the lembas bread half eaten and half forgotten in her hand. She looked up to the sky, seeing the moon, it was a half moon, in it's waning stage. Not for a while, in nearly a month it will be full, which meant this beautiful light, what ever it may be, would be brighter than it was. As someone who appreciates all that glitters, Arielle was determined to see this pond light up the entire courtyard.

Finally, she cleared her throat, "Is any of that true?"

He hesitated before he answered, which Arielle took notice in, "All legends have some truth behind them. Though the magic in stories are believing in the embellishments, however outlandish they seem."

Arielle was caught between agreeing and disagreeing with him. She was the kind of person that needed facts, but then again, she did love a good story, and Bellamy was known for making some of the most boring stories sound magical. He made Middle Earth sound more like home than home ever did… it was part of the reason why they sought to be here all their lives.

The silence continued between them, with only the sounds of frogs hopping around on lily pads and into the water. There would be a croak here or there, and a cricket off in the distance. Overall, it was calming, despite Arielle's crunching when she ate the lettuce.

"Do you want any?" She asked the king when she pulled out the grapes.

"I've already eaten," he said, his eyes still transfixed in the pond. He hadn't wavered his gaze on it since he finished his tale, which raised a lot of questions and speculations in Arielle's mind.

Shrugging she laid down on her back and began to feed herself the grapes while looking at the stars and half-moon through the branches of the willow. The constellations were different in this realm, but it was brighter and more vivid than she could have ever imagine. On clear nights, she could see galaxies and auroras decorating the sky, especially in the Misty Mountains.

"You don't seem entirely disappointed that you were left alone tonight," Thranduil mused, his gaze finally pulled away from the water and onto the elleth who sprawled herself on the grass.

"It _was_ disappointing," she confessed, _I had plans. Stupid elf ruined those plans._ "Though I have seen life through the mortals, and even though I have lived twice as long as most would ever imagine, I still see that life is too short. Especially waiting around for a prince charming to come whisk you off."

"You have no interest in courtship, yet you are courting Tharnor, nevertheless, and only after three days of being here…" She could hear the amusement in her contradictory, though some mock suspicion followed in his next statement. "One would think you were up to something."

Arielle lolled her head to the side so she was looking at the Elvenking from the ground, her eyes squinting at him. "I never entirely agreed to a courtship. I _did_ end up being hoodwinked into one… To be honest, I've never courted anyone, or had any interest in romance."

"Then why continue with seeing him?"

She inhaled and let her shoulders fall, giving herself some time to think of a good enough reason. It wasn't like she could tell him the truth. "I'm going to be here for a while… Might as well get involved in the community," it was meant as a joke, though judging by the exhausted look Thranduil gave her, he didn't appreciate it.

"I do not believe you know what you are getting yourself into, _dess._ Your youth has blind-sighted you once again, I fear."

Arielle had an idea of what he was referring to, as Maeleth had warned her about earlier that day. Though she tried her best not to reveal her knowledge of it, as it would surely look more suspicious if she did show her wisdom _and_ encouragement on Tharnor's playboy nature.

"I won't judge your wisdom, my lord, since you've known him surely longer than any elf I know," Arielle propped herself on her elbows. "Tell me, please, what trouble am I getting myself into?"

Thranduil regarded her for a moment before sighing deeply and standing up. "If you can face a _troll_ and _orcs_ you could face the truth," his robes flowed past him as he strode from under the willow's canopy. Arielle watched him for a moment before she realized she was meant to follow him.

Quickly she shoved everything in the basket, gathered her skirt and briskly walked to Thranduil, who was already yards away from her. There was some form of unplaced guilt that Arielle felt for tricking the king, and she wasn't entirely sure why. Sure, they decided to be civil with each other, but she still wasn't sure if she liked the king at all…he still harboured traits that she absolutely hated in any man who had power. Not to mention he _was_ a job, and Arielle prided herself in not allowing herself getting attached to something or someone she would have to betray and turn her back to in the end. So her guilt for not being entirely truthful was a bit weird to her, but it didn't last long. When they exited the courtyard, the thought was pushed into the back of her mind and the remorse was already forgotten.

"Where are you taking me?" She finally asked as she followed him only a few feet away.

"Tharnor's home," he stated, arms folded in front of him as he turned into a corridor that lead towards a long inclining bridge that lead to the wealthier homes of the Elvenking's Halls.

 _Jackpot,_ Arielle mused to herself. It was just the place she needed to know in order to find the deed to the land. If it wasn't there, then she would have to find information from Tharnor himself or someone else on where he would keep it. The challenge was how to find the right person to do this and not letting on that she was interested in Tharnor's personal affairs.

"The Chancellor is one of my oldest friends… I've known him since before I was crowned king, so I know him better than he knows himself," Thranduil continued. "He is an advocate to abolish traditional elven courtship… he practices his belief with young elleths, like yourself, who are easy to sway."

"So he's using me for some political statement?" Arielle couldn't help but give a look of ridiculousness. _What kind of backwards, misogynistic bull shit…_ Arielle's hate towards Tharnor grew instantly in that moment. Before she found him interesting, if not a little creepy, though now that his intentions were something more chauvinistic, he was borderline disgusting.

"That, and for pleasure and entertainment, I wager," Thranduil's tone was so flat that Arielle wondered if the king even cared. Her opinion of the Elvenking was going to drop as well, though she reminded herself that he was going out of his way to expose his 'friend'. Still, she couldn't help but have a bad taste in her mouth at the entire situation. There was something that wasn't being said.

"If he's done this to other girls, then why would you let him continue it? It's not morally sound," Arielle was not afraid to voice her displeasure of this information. It was one thing to simply woo girls so they could sleep with them. She was _used_ to that type of behaviour in men, and while it was just as disgusting, it was primarily only done by boys who had the emotional depth of a teaspoon. Though Tharnor, an adult ellon over 4000 years, was doing it out of entertainment _and_ to exercise his beliefs about an outdated social conduct among elves. Arielle had no judgement about his political and social views, but that did not justify him purposely manipulating and corrupting young girls to support his cause. _He's not doing this for a statement,_ Arielle concluded. _He's doing it because he gets the thrill of control. He's no different than a 35 year old who dates 18 year old girls, because they're the only ones impressed by his car and studio apartment._

"There are no laws against courtship to young elleth," Thranduil said before stopping at an apartment upon a flet, and turned to her. "As long as the girl is consenting, there is nothing I can do."

"As his friend, and his _king_ ," Arielle said rather forcefully, "You have every right to tell him to stop."

There was a long moment as Thranduil searched the woman's eyes, struck by her ferocity behind her words. It seemed every time he spoke to her that more of her character would come out in every bite of words she had. She talked plainly, without permission, as if they had known each other for a long time, or that he was anyone else. It was endearing, though troublesome. He did not want to make this a habit, he was, after all, King and she a commoner. Though she sounded like a queen, particularly in this moment.

At last he responded to her criticism, "Then I would be a hypocrite."

Arielle opened her mouth to ask what he meant, her eyebrows furrowed, both thoroughly confused and thoroughly put off by what that implied. However, Thranduil had already knocked on the door loudly enough to hear it echo in the corridor.

A feminine voice called from behind the door, she spoke in Sindarin, though Arielle rose an eyebrow all the same, and shared a look with Thranduil.

Pursing his lips and straightening his back he banged on the door again, this time speaking in a strong and demanding voice, " _His king_ wishes to speak with his Chancellor."

Arielle and Thranduil could hear the whispers and shuffling inside the abode. The former leaned against the wall next to the door, knowing she would be out of sight when the door opened.

"Coming, my lord!" Tharnor's voice was near and within ten seconds the door opened ajar, enough to show that his chest was bare and held a robe around his waist. Arielle, silent, raised an eyebrow at his state of dress, as well as his heavy breathing and overall flustered appearance. "What can I do for my king at this most…" a broad smile came to his face as he gave a great sigh, "inconvenient of times?"

Thranduil let himself smirk but remained still and gave no indication that he wasn't alone, "I take it your supper with Lady Arielle is going well."

Tharnor raised his eyebrows, his grin only faltering a fraction before he let out a hearty laugh, "It is indeed, my friend. She was all too willing to give herself to me once I got her alone. We barely ate…." he licked his bottom lip and then furrowed his brow. "What is it that you wanted, _mellon nîn?_ "

"I have come to bring you a rather special delivery," his lips now a straight line when his eyes shifted to where Arielle stood. The elleth's arms crossed and her tongue rolling around in her mouth and then clicking behind her teeth.

Tharnor looked over the edge of his door and his eyes widened at the seething woman who stood behind it, her eyes narrowed in slits and irises dark and blue like a storm above the sea.

"Good evening, Chancellor Tharnor. I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sorry if it's been a bit slow, but at this point it will pick up with the addition of more information that Arielle will get. As always, I added the picture of Arielle's dress in the pinterest board in my profile.**

 **Also, I know a lot of people who read this probably dont bother reviewing, but I just would like you to know that reviews do make me write faster, and get more inspired, which means longer and better written chapters. Not to mention that more reviews looks better when people are browsing for new stories to right, so I'd appreciate any review, even if it is just "nice chapter!" or criticisms.**

 **Happy Readings xoxo**

 **QTJ**


	9. viii - Her Royal Invitation

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 _ **quel undome** \- good evening  
_ _ **nîn** \- my  
_ _ **aran** \- king  
_ _ **ernil** \- prince  
_ _ **Tenna' san'** \- until then  
_ _ **saesa omentien lle** \- pleasure meeting you  
_ _ **Mae govannen** \- well met  
_ _ **Diola lle** \- thank you  
_ _ **ion nîn** \- my son_

 _ **Sterday** \- _ equivalent of saturday

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 _Amber Heard_ as Fogwen

 **Author's Note:**

 **Apologies that this took longer than usual. Chapter twelve was a bit difficult to write. Thank you for the lovely reviews, albeit few. They are very encouraging, and it's lovely to see that people do enjoy this story (:**

* * *

 **CHAPTER VIII**

 _Her Royal Invitation_

* * *

' _Day 412 —_

 _You'll be interested to learn, Bellamy, that I courted, got into a relationship, and was cheated on in about three days. Yeah, it turns out my target, Tharnor, is actually a pig. Maeleth has been gloating about how she was right the last week, though I have been ignoring her. I'm not_ entirely _surprised by Tharnor's douchiness, but I have to remain as if it bothered me personally._

 _What bothers me is him as a person, rather than what he did to me. Since, you know, I am manipulating him as well, so I can't exactly be upset about that. The urge of drop down the fist of feminist justice on the mother fucker is strong in me… I think I'm getting too emotionally involved in this. I have to keep my mind on the job._

 _It's been a week already and I've only made progress socially with these people. While Thranduil and I decided to be civil in each other's company, it hasn't exactly been an easy start. Sometimes he says something about humans that makes me want to dump wine on his perfectly silver head. And I know that he says such things to get under my skin on purpose._

 _I'm trying to focus on what's important right now and that's doing the job. I've never wavered from a job, I've never gotten distracted from one either, but ever since I stepped foot in this place I've been off my game. It mostly happened when I found out that you were_ _here_ _, somewhere. I'm still in shock to even find out a shred of information of your survival, though that is not only what is clouding my mind. Yes, I desperately want to drop everything and ride like the wind to where you were last seen, though I know that wouldn't do any good. I only pray that we cross paths at least in our lifetime._

 _But, there's something in my mind that's making it hard to concentrate, like something is calling me and pulling me in a different direction, as if it's begging for me to see something that I just can't see. As if it's more important, but I can't quite put my finger on it.'_

There was a knock on the door as Arielle wrote in her journal by candlelight. She didn't bother getting up, because she heard Maeleth walk out of her bed quarters to go and answer it. Though the thief paused in her writing and looked up at the wall while she listened to the sound of shuffling feet that paraded around the living quarters. She furrowed her brow, thoroughly confused, but didn't get up from her chair until she heard the front door shut, and Maeleth's annoyed voice called her.

" _Arielle, you have a_ _ **delivery**_ _!_ "

 _Oh no,_ the elf huffed and went to the door, expecting to see another package or gift that expressed Tharnor's remorse of what he done. The past week it had been things from apologizing notes, surprise candle lit dinners waiting for her in romantic areas, roses, poems, _a singing telegram_ , and lots and lots of—

"Bloody hell," Arielle blanched when she opened the door. The room was filled with possibly hundreds of blue and violet flowers of all types of bloom. In the middle stood Maeleth in a topaz dress, looking quite annoyed as she read the letter in her hand.

She cleared her throat and read mockingly, "' _A flower for every hour I spent in the darkness away from your light. Would you please forgive this wilting summer rose and bless me with your divine light'."_

Arielle bit her lip and snorted, "Now he's getting pathetic."

"It got pathetic when he sent you a choir of children to sing how sorry he is from below our balcony," she tossed the note over her shoulder.

"That was actually kind of cute, I'd give him that," The thief sauntered over to an arm chair and plopped into it.

The flowers around her made it look like a throne in a field of blue flowers. Maeleth mentally admitted to herself that the colour did suit her, and especially brought out her eyes. Not to mention that she sat upon the chair like the Elvenking did in his throne of antlers, which was a bit unnerving.

Maeleth shook her head and crossed her arms, "Nevertheless, it needs to stop. We haven't made much progression at all this week… _this_ has been rather distracting."

Arielle rose an eyebrow as she watched Maeleth pace in front of her. _Is she jealous I'm getting attention?_ Arielle wouldn't have wondered if she hadn't been watching the elleth's behaviour the last week since they've got here. She's been particularly fussy in things that regarded Arielle, and it only made sense that she was jealous of the attention. It seemed like Maeleth had expected her arrival would be the talk of the kingdom, especially after what had happened, but her lack of drama between Legolas and herself didn't draw any excitement from anyone. Arielle's situation with Tharnor was far more interesting, it seemed.

 _It would be beneficial to me more if I didn't get so much attention,_ Arielle nibbled on her bottom lip and decided to throw Maeleth a bone. _If people are more focused on her affairs than my own, I won't have people tailing me and watching me as they do now. If I disappear, hopefully people wouldn't notice._

Arielle cleared her throat and crossed her legs, "How have you and the Prince been? Have you enacted your revenge yet?"

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, then settled into a slitted look. "I've rarely seen him this week. He's hardly in the Kingdom, and he's particularly chummy with the Captain of the Guard."

"The red-headed elleth that looked like she could plant an orc in the ground with the butt of her sword?" Arielle rose an eyebrow amusingly. _Legolas likes to be dominated, I bet._

"That would be the one," Maeleth sighed and fell into a chair. She pulled a flower and began to pull of the petals.

"Oi, those are mine!"

The older elleth sent Arielle a glare before tossing the flower at her face, "I didn't figure you to be so sentimental."

"I'm a thief," Arielle deadpanned, "I get attached to all my possessions."

"How very _ironic,_ " Maeleth muttered.

" _Anyway,"_ Arielle practically growled and shifted in her seat. "You do not need Legolas around you to get back at him."

Her eyes shifted from the new flower she was plucking over to her companion, her brow furrowing a fraction, "Are you scheming for me?"

"You're not doing anything about it, but complain to me," She stated.

" _Fine._ Pray, thief, what is your scheme?"

"You to court a new ellon," Arielle flatly responded.

Maeleth stared at her for a moment, expecting there to be more, but Arielle remained quiet. The older elleth inhaled deeply before asking, "That is your plan?"

"Yup," Arielle smacked her lips and widened her eyes a bit at her brilliance. "Legolas is showing no interest in you, evading you even. Date another ellon, one much more attractive would help, and he would get jealous and taken back at how easily you are over him."

Maeleth's mouth opened as she thought about this, wanting to find some kind of flaw in this plan. "What if he doesn't care if I see someone else? Especially if he is not around to see me with this new suitor."

Arielle tilted her head back in the chair and looked at the ceiling in contemplation. _What would Bellamy do?_ She found herself wondering, and then soon a light bulb lit above her head. "There are two people that will _always_ will make a man jealous over… his best mate, or his worst enemy. Either or, would be the biggest betrayal."

Maeleth's mouth hung open, peering at Arielle as she stood up in her chair, "You, my dear Lionheart, are an _evil_ genius."

The other elleth grinned cheekily, and then tapped her head, "Got more where that came from." _From every teen drama movie and show ever._

Suddenly Maeleth slumped into her chair, arms flailing to her side, "But I don't think I could ever do that to Rhovanor! I've known him for years, and he's such a nice boy; he's done nothing _to_ me or to my family at all. Even if he's that nasty little Orc kisser's nephew."

Arielle smirked at the elleth's swearing, knowing very well that this is the most foul words that she would hear coming out of Maeleth's mouth. She, herself, had yet to unleash the tongue of the sailor, whipping out insults and swears left and right. Of course, she had no problem whipping that out around Alf and the others, but here she bit her tongue quite often.

"If not Rhovanor, then do a bit of snooping and find out who Legolas absolutely _loathes_ and then start from there," Arielle shrugged. "Ask Rhovanor, I'm sure he knows."

"How would I ever word that question without being so transparent," she sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose before standing up. "I need to get out of here… this room… too many flowers, too many smells. I'm starting to get sick of the colour blue."

"I'm not."

" _Of course_ you're not," Maeleth called as she slipped into her bed quarters and shut the door behind her.

For the rest of the afternoon the two ellith decided to leave the Elven kingdom and go for a ride in the north eastern part of the wood, where it was free of spiders and the forest was as beautiful as it was meant to be. Maeleth and Arielle road their horses through the forest glades, though they could barely converse about things of importance, such as the pendent and the deed, since there were wardens and guards hidden in the trees in this area, making sure no arachnids ventured into this part of the Mirkwood. Instead, Maeleth started that moment to teach her some words in Sindarin.

Within two hours, Arielle was able to say 'Greetings, I am Arielle Lionheart', 'Where is the nearest blacksmith?', 'Pleasure to meet you', and Arielle's favourite, 'Lasta lalaithamin'. Meaning: 'Listen to my laughter', which she intends to use as often as possible.

Despite the glades in this area to be free of spiders and another evils, the two had Faeldir and Gwaedhon to accompany them should they run into any altercations. The two footmen were rarely in Arielle's company in the last week, and they had only paid visit to their quarters when they were needed. Overall, their stay in the Mirkwood was much a vacation for them as it was for Maeleth.

Arielle could do without Gwaedhon's company, though. He seemed to complain about almost everything, and for the past half hour he has been moaning about how 'Lady Maeleth' needed to rest, and to eat. This part of the Greenwood was steep, due to the way the mountain of the Elvenking's Halls was protruding to the east. Reaching the Forest River took longer than Arielle had anticipated, since they had to find a safer route for their horses up the incline. Gwaedhon's complaining, she understood, was mainly because he was also unprepared for the climb. Maeleth also explained that Gwaedhon was not a fan of the wood, and much prefered the comforts of the sea that Mithlond provided.

Eventually his complaining made Maeleth give in and the four elves turned their horses and headed back to Thranduil's Halls in time for dinner.

Once they entered the Hall gates, they dismounted and was immediately greeted by Baby Blue or _Laurëal_ — something or other.

"My lady Maeleth, lady Arielle, _quel undome,_ " he bowed his head and put a hand over his heart in greeting. " _Ernil_ Legolas and his majesty _Aran_ Thranduil request your attendance for supper in their quarters this evening." Baby Blue's gaze shifted to Arielle with a bit of awkwardness, "And m'lord wanted me to inform you that the Chancellor Tharnor will _not_ be attending."

"Oh, thank the Valar," Maeleth sighed, then smiled gently at the guard. "Tell _aran nîn_ that we will be honoured, and we will be arriving after we've bathed and dressed."

Baby Blue nodded, "Yes, m'lady. _Aran_ and _Ernil_ Legolas will be pleased. _Tenna' san'._ " He bowed again and left the four elves to return to their quarters.

Maeleth then turned to Faeldir, "Call for some handmaiden to come up to our quarters to fill our baths as soon as possible. We don't want to have the King waiting for us." The ellon nodded and set off to that task, and then she turned to other. "And Gwaedhon, why don't you go and rest; you have done nothing but complain our entire ride, and I don't wish to exert you any longer."

Arielle snorted, which earned a sharp glare from Gwaedhon.

As soon as the ellith arrived at their quarters, Maeleth began to gush, a huge smile upon her face. "Oh, this is just _lovely._ At last a dinner that will not be interrupted by _Tharnor_ ," she sighed contently, flicking a flower on her way towards her bedchambers. She paused suddenly, and turned to look at Arielle, who was shrugging off her riding boots at the door of her bedchambers. "Do you suppose Legolas suggested we sup with them?"

Arielle shrugged, "Are we sure we are the only ones invited?"

The older elleth spouted, "I suppose not."

The handmaidens arrived about five minutes after they began to shed off their clothes. There were two modest sized baths that were placed in a small cavernous space in each bedchambers. The room was hidden behind a thick navy blue curtains, that initially Arielle had overlooked until the first time she had to bathe the second day she was there. The bath was on a platform standing on four legs and it was made out of marble. To the far right was the basin and chamber pot, and then on the right wall behind the bath was a shelf full of soft towels, oils, shampoos, and perfumes.

Three elf maidens shuffled into Arielle's room with large pitchers of hot water. It would have been a tedious job, to refill the bath, though there was a sort of plumbing system that poured water into the baths from above the tub. A natural faucet laid above the bath, and when the drain is plugged, the bath is filled with mineral water slowly, so by the evening it is half full. The only problem is that the water is cold, which is why hot pitchers of water are needed.

This process reminded Arielle that she still needed to use the public bath pools, _it would be infinitely easier than doing this every other day._

After two maidens left, one remained. The elleth avoided Arielle's gaze as she motioned over to the bath, "Lady Arielle, your bath is ready."

The thief still had to get used to having people _help_ her bathe, which wasn't even something rich people from her world and time had done. Though the past week, she had to get used to another woman washing her back and hair. She had grown used to one elleth who was her unofficial handmaid, but this elleth that awkwardly stood at the bath was new.

"Fimdes is not tending to me this evening?" Arielle asked, hesitating before she began to shed her tunic.

"No, my lady. Fimdes sends her apologies, but she is attending her sister's begot party," her hands were folded on her lap as she stood idly at the back of the tub.

"Ah, right… I remember her mentioning," Arielle responded, though truth be told Fimdes said nothing of the sort. "What is your name, _dess?"_

"I am Fogwen, m'lady," she put her hand over her heart and bowed.

"Well met," Arielle bit her lip as she finally undressed and then slid into the tub with her back facing her, but not without catching the peculiar look on Fogwen's face. "Is something wrong?"

"It's— never mind, my lady," she shuffled over to the shelves and began to pull out oils, shampoos, and soap.

Arielle rose an eyebrow as she watched her, "Speak your mind, Fogwen."

There was hesitation from the elleth, her shoulders tense as she stared at the bottles in her hand, "It's — uh — I've never seen — You have many scars, m'lady. I've never seen so many."

"Oh," Arielle relaxed in the tub, and then nodded to herself. "Yes, well, I was very accident prone as a child." Truthfully, a majority of those scars she obtained before she ever came to Middle Earth. With the Stone, it was easier to avoid bodily harm, but she couldn't be under it's protective cloak every hour of every day, so she did receive some cuts here and there. Though back home, she got injured far worse than that. She's been shot at several times, and three bullets have made their marks in the past. In actuality, the amount of scars on her wasn't that many, most were small in comparison to the scar on her abdomen when she got her appendix removed.

"They look more like battle wounds, my lady," Fogwen muttered as she poured the scented oils into the bath and then massaged it into Arielle's scalp, while the thief washed her arms and legs with the soap by herself.

"I fought a lot too," she told the truth. "Living with travelling merchants, you tend to find yourself in unlucky situations."

"I see…" Fogwen trailed off, and then the uncomfortable silence presumed. Only the sounds of water being pushed around could be heard.

After her hair was shampooed, Arielle dunked her head into the water and rinsed out the suds. Immediately Fogwen took her hair and began to twist and drain the water out, and for the first time in the last seven minutes, she made a sound.

"Hmm…"

"Something wrong?"

"Well — _no_. I just never noticed this earlier, but your hair — it has strands of silver—"

"—What?" Arielle practically sprung out of the bath when she took her hair in her hands and began to examine it fruitlessly. "Where?!" Nearing thirty, she had always been afraid of getting premature grey hairs, ever since that one day Bellamy plucked out a single grey hair from her head and teased her about it.

Arielle _did_ find silver hair, though not what she imagined it to be. They were almost translucent, sparkling under the torch lights and from the oils put in her hair. Was her hair always like this?

"Are you alright m'lady?" Fogwen asked, touching her shoulder.

"I've never noticed this before," she confessed, still examining a single light strand of hair.

"It isn't uncommon for certain elves to have silver hair in their tresses…" She trailed off as she went to get two towels from the shelf. "Do you know what race of elf your parents were?"

Arielle frowned, "No. I don't even know what they look like, or their names."

"Apologies, my lady. I had forgotten you were orphaned."

 _Me too._

There was no time to let her hair dry, by the time they reached the Elvenking's quarters, the damp parts wouldn't be noticeable, especially since Fogwen had plaited her hair into a side braid. Then there was the issue of what to wear…it was spring, but as well as evening ware would be more appropriate. Fogwen nearly pulled out the pink frock, but immediately Arielle shoved that thing where it came from. In the end, she decided on a deep teal dress with subtle black and gold trim at the square neckline. It was a nice rich colour, and while it didn't match the spring season, it was still a nice gown to wear to a dinner with the Elvenking.

As soon as they finished getting ready, the handmaidens left. Baby Blue was waiting outside to escort the two ellith to the King's chambers. On their trek, Maeleth fussed with Arielle's dress, questioning why she hadn't worn the pink one. The younger's nostrils flared, deciding that one day she is going to throw that pink dress into the fireplace and only _then_ she would wear it when it comes out blacken with soot and remotely resembled something that Arielle _would_ wear in public.

The Elvenking's castle resided at the very top of the mountain of the halls, and possibly the only place that had windows. The hike up there was unnecessarily long, though Arielle still managed to retain the memory of all the long staircases and corridors they had to walk through in order to reach two grand doors that were similar to the gates in front of the Halls. The only difference was that these doors were adorned, shimmering with light like a stained glass window. The same pattern of the twisting branches that formed the door, though between the branches were coloured glass — or perhaps they were different coloured crystals — that shown torch light from inside out. It caused a rainbow of colour on the floor and decorated Arielle's dress and reflected against her face.

Two guards with staves were stationed on either side of the doors, and as soon as the two guests approached, they opened the doors without a word. Beyond the entrance was absolutely magnificent, and it was simply the _foyer._ Two large curved ornate staircases were on either side that lead up to the second floor, and high above was a chandelier made of glimmering aura crystals and bleached elk antlers that twined with each other to make a wreath. The floor was white marble, the furniture made out of wood that seemed to grow from the ground itself, and the walls sparkled far more brightly than the rest of the Elvenking's Halls. Arielle was correct in her assumption that this was the only place that had windows, because just beyond the stairs she could feel a draft of spring breeze waft into the home. There was also the distant sound of rushing water, which piqued Arielle's interest further.

 _Does he have a bloody river up there too?_

"This way, _arwenaminea,_ " Baby Blue directed as he lead the way underneath the stairs in the centre of the foyer. At the end of the corridor it forked; in front was another pair of ornate doors that were closed, and Baby Blue led the duo to the right, where the air was lighter, and the sound of rushing water was stronger. Eventually the corridor began to open up until they reached an archway that was lined with light green curtains pinned to the side, and beyond it was a vast room with a high ceiling, high windows that exposed the outside, and a gorgeous view of the courtyard below. The waterfall that softly fell into the pool of water in the courtyard originated from above them, cascading down the shimmering rock and then disappearing into hanging moss that canopied the grotto. The water's source had to somehow come from the Forest River, though the only explanation _how_ was that the small mountain was actually a cliff of raised land, where the river passed through. Perhaps there was a glade and a small lake above them as well, since the water flow didn't look to be in short supply.

The room itself was also gorgeous, with seats all facing the wide open windows that peeked over the trees of the forest, exposing the rest of the world. Arielle could see Lake town and Erebor in the distance from there. There were pillows scattered all around in a cozy nook in the floor with the couches and arm chairs, and squat tables in the centre. Around were white stone statues and lots of plants that shuddered in the warm evening breeze. More notable, there was a _bar_. A curved counter barricaded a large cabinet with glass doors that exposed the variety of wines and other spirits, most likely Thranduil's more older and favourited beverages. Or just the ones he's wiling to share with guests.

 _I think I'm going to cry,_ Arielle sighed in complete bliss… The Courtyard _was_ her favourite place in the Halls, but _this_ exact room was very close in taking it's place. Solely for the simple addition of a bar and alcohol, of course.

There was another short corridor that Baby Blue had led them through, and then finally another pair of ornate doors, though this one was open, and exposed a smaller room with a large table and lower ceiling. There were windows, though they were shorter, faced more of the wood, and were closed. Sitting at the table were familiar faces, and immediately Maeleth noticed that their hosts were not there.

The Captain of the Guard, was, _however_ , present. Besides her, there was Rhovanor, which even Arielle found a bit odd considering who his uncle is. Though Maeleth quickly deduced that based on the company, it had not been Thranduil's idea to host this private dinner. If it had been, more of the King's Court would have been present, and not even Maeleth's uncle was there.

Rhovanor was the first to greet the ladies after Baby Blue had introduced them upon their arrival.

"You arrived just in time," he beamed after he leapt from his chair to meet them and the door. "Legolas and _Aran_ shall be arriving shortly."

The Captain of the Guard glided over to the group, a friendly and polite smile as she approached. Her hands were behind her back before she lifted one up and placed her fist over her heart and bowed, "Lady Maeleth, Lady Arielle, _saesa omentien lle._ Legolas has spoken highly of you. I apologies if I haven't gotten the moment to formally introduce myself until now. I am Captain Tauriel."

Arielle could feel the animosity vibrating from Maeleth, even through her kind — albeit tight jawed — smile. The thief, however, was kind of relieved to see an elleth like Tauriel. While she had seen plenty of them as guards and what men would consider "a man's job", Tauriel was the first she had seen thus far that had a position of authority. Not to mention she chose not to wear a dress, but still dressed formally even in breeches and a long tunic. If Legolas was more romantically interested in her, then Arielle had an idea of what kind of elleth that the prince was interested in. And unfortunately for Maeleth, it was _not_ her.

" _Mae govannen,_ Captain Tauriel," Maeleth greeted, bowing her head in respect. "I am glad we can meet at last. I suspect your duties have been pulling our proper introduction away from us."

Tauriel grinned and nodded, "It has been rather taxing this past week. The spider nests have grown in the last decade, and have become more dauntless during the winter. Now that the snow has melted, they are starting to breed—"

Arielle made a face of disgust, which didn't go unnoticed by Rhovanor, who gave her a cheeky smirk. "What is the matter, Arielle? Not so fond of spiders?"

"I had a bad experience," She suppressed a shudder from the repressed memory. "I don't want to talk about it."

Tauriel gave her a curious, albiet amused look, "You've encountered them before? And survived?"

 _Don't know why it's so surprising that I survived that encounter. I know I'm no elven warrior, but—_ "Last year, actually. It was a chance encounter, one that I wasn't prepared for, but I managed to evade them. I am very fast and light on my feet, especially when my life is in danger."

Arielle's comment earned a chuckle from the captain, and then she trailed off. "Wait, did you say last year? We had an invader lookout near south west of the Mirkwood Mountains. Was that where you had the encounter?"

 _Ah, shit,_ "Possibly. I was— I was meaning to trade with the Woodmen in a nearby settlement. I lost my map, and I wondered too far north." Tauriel, Rhovanor bought the lie, and Arielle was impressed at how easily she thought of it. _Bellamy would be proud,_ she mused.

"Well, it is a good thing you didn't wander any further. If a spider didn't capture you, one of my guards would have," Tauriel said in a tone of jest.

"If that had happened instead, I'm sure my story would be very different at this point," There was more truth in Arielle's statement than Tauriel, Rhovanor, and even Maeleth would understand. She often wondered what would have happened if she didn't conveniently stumbled upon a band of thieves, and instead bumped into another group of people. What if she was captured by Thranduil's guards? Would she had been taken prisoner, or would she have refuge in Thranduil's Halls? She would have met Maeleth under entirely different circumstances, and certain events might not have inferred. Like she might have never met Sírdaer and found out about his encounter with a dwarf who spoke a funny language — Bellamy. In fact, she likely would not have any close relationship with any of the nobility let alone royalty if she was simply adopted into the Silvan community. It felt almost like destiny had already written her path, the more she thought about it.

At that moment, at last the King and Prince graced them with their presence. Legolas was wearing deep purple attire, with silver breaches, and silver accents. His hair, as always was pulled back in a spider braid, though this time he wore a circlet, which he often didn't. Thranduil, though, wore, to Arielle's chagrin, deep teal robes that glittered cyan. They practically matched, and at that moment, Arielle started to regret not wearing the pink frock. Like his son, he wore a circlet, but his hair was free from braids, like he was often seen.

After the royal company greeted everywhere — Thranduil regarded Arielle with a slight nod — the six elves all sat at the table. There was a chair on either end of the table; Legolas sat on the end on the left, and Thranduil at the head of the table on the right. Before anyone else could claim a seat, Maeleth practically leapt to the seat on Legolas' right, leaving Arielle to take the seat next to her, _and_ on Thranduil's left. Tuariel took to the seat across from her, on Thranduil's right — Arielle noticed Legolas' crestfallen face when that had happened — and then Rhovanor took to the seat across from Maeleth. At last when everyone was settled, wine was served.

Arielle lifted her goblet as the footman poured the vintage into her cup after he had served the king. He stopped halfway, and she gave him a look, "More."

"But, my lady—"

"It's just going to empty in the next 60 seconds," She kept her glass up, and finally after the footman casted the King a concerned look, he filled the goblet to the rim. " _Diola lle."_

Thranduil regarded her over the rim of his goblet before taking a sip and then saying, "You learned more Sindarin. I take it your lessons with Maeleth are going well."

"We've only just begun," Maeleth answered for her. "The past week's distractions have made getting started rather difficult, but we've been focusing more on her…" She trailed off as she watched Arielle carefully balance her goblet to her lips and slurp up the wine before it could spill on her dress. "…Manners."

Tauriel covered her mouth to conceal her amusement, but Rhovanor wasn't holding back his grin. "Need a little help, Arielle?"

"No, I'm fine," She smiled after she successfully depleted the wine down a fraction without spilling.

Thranduil only had a small smirk when he placed down his goblet, "That is a strong vintage, _dess_. It would be wise to pace yourself, less you become inebriated before desert."

She knew that it wasn't meant to be a challenge, though Arielle took it all the same. "I'm just warming up my palette," she shrugged as the light salads were placed in front of them. "I noticed you have a well stocked bar in the other room."

That, Thranduil did laugh to, "I never thought we would have much in common, _dess_ , but alas we do."

" _Ada_ , do you think it is appropriate to encourage drink upon our guests, when this is but a private gathering?" Legolas asked, his goblet untouched.

Thranduil stared at Legolas for a beat, as if that was the dumbest thing he had ever heard, and then directed his eyes to Arielle. "My son does not share my love for spirits, it would seem. Most elven youth are not so inclined to the drink, unlike other races, I've noticed."

"It is because it impairs the drinker," Legolas added, and straightening his back. "And serves no purpose other than to quench a thirst. Drinking more than you can handle is pointless."

 _Over two-thousand years, and he has no seen a lick of danger other than what he knows. Of course Legolas doesn't drink like his father, because he hasn't seen a fraction of what Thranduil has,_ Arielle looked over at the King, his face shadowed. Arielle cleared her throat, "Perhaps when you are older, _Ernil Legolas,_ your opinion will change."

She felt eyes on her in an instant. Maeleth chocked on her salad, and sent her a sharp glare, and Tauriel just looked at her like a sibling watching her younger sister talk back to her parents: shocked, but with a clear indication of respect for her bravery.

Legolas didn't seem offended by it, but he did look at her as if she already drank more than her fill, "With all do respect, Lady Arielle. You are but 1/20th my age."

"Age is irrelevant if the younger has lived more," Arielle stated philosophically, "You forget that I lived with man. I've seen how fast mortality forces those to live through experience. I may not be as intellectual, but I am wise, perhaps _too_ wise than any elleth my age should rightfully be. And that is why I _pointlessly_ drink."

A surprising chuckle emitted from the Elvenking, and all turned to him as he took a sip from his goblet, his eyes briefly on Arielle, and then to his son. "I was mistaken, _ion nîn._ My earlier statement — I take it back."

It seemed clear to Arielle, at least, that Thranduil was not talking about alcohol. The look he shared with Legolas meant that they were talking about an entirely different conversation that their guests were not apart of, which piqued Arielle's curiosity a bit. Especially by the disapproving tilt of Legolas' head, it sounded like a topic that he did not wish to talk about among present company.

With a great sigh, the prince changed topics, "So, Lady Maeleth. How was your day?"

Maeleth, glad to change the topic, delved into what they had did that day. Starting with the jungle of blue flowers that came for her ward that morning, and then to the wonderful walk in the forest with her footmen. Once the salads were done, dinner conversation moved onto different topics until entrees were served. For the first time in a while, meat was served, and Rhovanor proudly claimed that it was a boar that he had hunted by himself the previous night. The portions were small, and the fat was trimmed off, though it was delicious and savoury. The rest of the boar was likely sold off, since that _was_ Rhovanor's profession. The topic of Rhovanor's boar is what directed the spotlight back onto Arielle again, who was nursing her third brimming goblet of wine.

"Arielle, you mentioned that you were fast and light on your feet?" Tauriel asked, and the brunette nodded. "How would you care to join us on Sterday for a raid?"

Before Arielle could respond, Maeleth did for her, "Arielle has studies to get into… I don't think—"

"Maeleth, you're welcome to come as well," Rhovanor said. "I remember you being a superb archer, and we could use good archers while cleaning the nest near the south west."

Arielle shot Tauriel a look, "You invite me to go barrelling into a spider nest?"

The red-head smiled innocently, "You will be with a large company of well trained guards and soldiers. And I suspect you will do well if you are as quick on your feet as you say."

Arielle looked at Maeleth, who didn't approve, but she wasn't going to protest if she had accepted. The younger elleth decided that the chance would be good experience, especially if she needed to leave the Mirkwood and had to fight through the dangers by herself. "Sounds like a good opportunity," Arielle smiled at the Captain. "I would be honoured to accompany you. I've been growing tired of being idle indoors anyway."

Tauriel grinned, though it quickly disappeared when someone walked into the dining room and bowed respectfully.

"Forgive me, _Aran_ , but a courier from Mithlond just arrived with a letter for Lady Maeleth Greywater," The man stood a few feet away, in both his hands he held a note folded into a square and had a wax seal and ribbon.

"Can this wait until after dinner?" Thranduil asked, not bothering casting a look to the servant.

"The courier had requested that this be given to the Lady as soon as possible."

A look of curiosity and concern swept over Maeleth's face as she turned towards the servant ellon and extended her hand, "It is alright; here, give it to me." The note was given to her, and she stared at the seal with a poorly concealed look of dread. Arielle watched her closely as she tore open the seal and unfolded the parchment, her eyes quickly scanning the contents.

When she was done, she let her hands fall onto her lap with the note, and then lifted her chin up to look at Thranduil. She fought to plaster her smile when she spoke, but still Maeleth took a deep bracing breath. "My father is coming for Elanoriel's coming of age party… And he's bringing my aunt with him."

Thranduil sharply turned from plate towards Maeleth, and silence filled the room. Arielle was confused, because as she understood it, Maeleth's aunt was dead. The King's face seemed to pale, his eyes wide and betraying a hit of fright as he processed this information.

He opened his mouth as if to ask something, though quickly disregarded his words, and opted for a different question. "Amarthel?"

Maeleth subtly bit her bottom lip and nodded, eyes flickering over the King's face. She watched closely as the muscles in his face tensed even when he relaxed in his seat and then raised his goblet to be refilled. In a swift moment, he downed the contents and had it refilled once again.

Arielle watched him, and then looked at Maeleth, who looked as if she had seen a ghost. _Who the hell Amarthel?_

* * *

 **In two more chapters, there will be a lot of explanations of _who_ and _what_. Though next chapter my new OC is making her debut! I want to apologise in advance if she automatically seems like a Mary Sue in her first impression. I noticed that when I was re-reading it. She more for comic relief, if anything, but she does have depth to her, I promise. And she does serve a purpose in the future, not just because I want another romance with the dwarves.**

 **As always, castings and pictures are posted in the pinterest provided in my profile.**

 **Happy Readings xoxo**

 **qtj**


	10. ix - His Duet

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

Guest _chapter 9 . Oct_ 13:  
 **You don't need to worry about anything. I don't know where you got the impression that I was leaving, but I'm not abandoning this story or my Harry Potter one. The dates for reach update on my profile page are there. I don't update every day, just when I think it's important.**

Guest _chapter 9 . Oct 12:_ ** _  
_I wasn't intending on revealing what Legolas and Thranduil were talking about prior. It was more-so along the lines of "ugh, son, I don't want to hang out with your friends. Theyre so boring and painfully sober."**

Guest _chapter 9 . Oct 9:_  
 **I wasn't talking about Arielle being a Mary Sue, but the character you'll be introduced to in this chapter. She gives off mary-sue vibes in her introduction, but I'm hoping how I approach her character in later chapters will change anyone's opinion if they believe her to be one.**

 **SONGS IN THIS CHAPTER:**

 _For the Dancing and the Dreaming_ by John Powell  
(From: How To Train Your Dragon 2)

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER** :

 _Chlöe Howl_ as Fiona Took

* * *

 **CHAPTER IX  
** _His Duet_

* * *

 _Wool's Orphanage, Christmas Eve 2004_

"You can't leave me here," Jane stood at the gates of the orphanage. She could feel the steely gaze of the Matron, Mrs. Turner, from second floor window, as well as the many intrusive eyes of the other orphans. That day was the day that Jane dreaded for years; when Bellamy was forced to leave the Orphanage. He was older than her by two years, though two years seemed like a massive gap to her, because two years meant she wouldn't _see_ him for that long. The longest that Jane had been separated from him was a little over twelve hours; they were like twins, always dependent on each other.

"You know I can't stay… If I could, I would, but that old bat won't even let me within a kilometre of here," Bellamy was standing just beyond Wool's gate. His hair was recently cut, his face shaven from the stubble he began to grow, and his clothes looked cleaner and newer, but they were only clothes from Good Will. A large ruck sack was slung over his shoulder, carrying the belongings that he had owned since he was emitted there. Admittedly, it was not a lot. A few pair of clothes, blankets, and other necessities, but also things that _didn't_ belong to him. Like the contents of the Mrs. Turner's purse, the cook's cellphone, and the complete collection of J.R.R. Tolkien's book series. The last one put the most weight in the bag, but Bellamy was large and fit for an eighteen year old; he could easily pass for someone in his twenties, especially when he grew out his facial hair.

"You're eighteen— you're an adult. Adopt me," Even with all seriousness in the world that was written on Jane's face, Bellamy still laughed at the ridiculousness.

"Where do I begin with how wrong and impossible that is," he smiled ruefully at her, and with a tilt of his head he crossed the threshold of the gate. From the corner of his eye he could see that this action had irked the spying Matron, and she lifted herself from her seat and turned from the window. Bellamy reached out and cupped Jane's tearful cheeks with both of his hands. He was nearly a foot taller than her, so he tilted her face to look up at him and her blue eyes glinted under the sun, magnified by the tears in her eyes. "We will see each other again, I promise. Two years… Just two years… And I'll be the first person you see when you walk through this gate. Together, we won't be orphans any longer."

Jane put her hands upon his, her nose sniffing and her fingers gripping onto him. "Promise me. Promise you'll be here in two years…"

"I promise," he smiled softly and bent down to kiss her on the forehead. "And this will be the last time we will ever be apart."

At that moment the front doors were flung open, and Mrs. Turner was making a beeline down the pathway to the gate. Bellamy quickly hugged Jane, and then pulled away, keeping her at arm's length, "Be strong. Be patient. Soon we will be far away from this place, together."

Just when the Matron got to the gate, he was gone, running down the street. Jane barely felt the woman's vice grip on her shoulder, because the pain in her chest was unbearable. _Two years,_ she thought woefully, her mouth twitching in an attempt to stall her break down. _It feels like two thousand…_

* * *

 _Hobbiton, 27th Astron_

That morning, Bilbo Baggins woke up with a wave of relief. His house was empty of any loud hairy men, and it looked — miraculously — relatively clean. It was as if the entire ordeal hadn't happened at all, and it was just a very vivid unpleasant dream. After he snuck around the house, making sure no dwarves were hidden in unlikely places, he stopped at a hallway and sighed a great wave of relief. That was when he spotted the contract, sitting on a stool with the signatures of Thorin and Balin as witness.

"No," he told the contract, as if it would fold up on itself and then disappear into non existence. He turned on his heel, and made to head into the kitchen, hoping to scrounge up what ever was left over of his abused pantry and make his first breakfast. However, a loud, obnoxious voice appeared out of thin air, causing the Hobbit to nearly jump out of his skin.

"YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GO?!"

Bilbo spun around, his eyes as wide as saucers and his face as white as snow. He had thought he cleared his home of dwarves! Was one creeping in the shadows the entire time?!

Alas, it was no dwarf, but a hobbit. A hobbit he almost didn't recognize until he squinted at her and recognized that cheeky wide grin. _"Fiona?"_ He asked, his tone disbelieving. "What on this green earth are you doing here? And what did you do to your hair?!"

Fiona Took was his cousin, one of the youngest daughters of his uncle Isembold Took, who had too many children to count. Fiona, though stood out amongst her siblings, and it was usually because of her _hair_. The reason why Bilbo hadn't recognized her was that her hair, that everyone knew her by, was _all_ gone. Fiona was known for having the most unruly head of orange and red hair. It was massively large, piled on her head, and was almost too tangled to even comb. It was also known for catching stray leafs and twigs, especially since she goes frolicking into the forest as if it was a field of soft grass. However _now_ it was the shortest it has ever been…it was the shortest that any _hobbit_ had ever had their hair. If Bilbo hadn't recognized her huge impish grin, her face of freckles and her voice, he would have thought her to be a very small human boy. It didn't help that she was wearing slacks rather than a dress… in fact her entire attire looked vaguely familiar, and it was then it dawned on him that she was wearing _his_ clothes.

She bounced on her bizarrely small feet, a large grin never wavering from her bright face, "I cut it. If I knew having short hair would feel like this, I would have cut it _ages_ ago!"

"Why would you cut your hair?! Why are you wearing my clothes?! Why are you here?! What's that bag for— _No!"_ Bilbo answered all his questions before she could. His hand raised as he pointed a finger at her, his eyes wide and reprimanding. "You are _not_ going on that quest. How did you even know about it?!"

Fiona wasn't overly surprised by her cousin's influx of questions. She was far too excited to leave the Shire that she could barely stand on her own two dainty feet. The very feet that made the entire populace of the Shire wonder if she was even a Hobbit… But that could simply be explained by her Took blood. "I saw the dwarves walk in town earlier yesterday. I followed, of course, and over heard everything, just outside in your garden."

For a moment Bilbo was concerned at the state of his garden, especially if his cousin was laying around in it the other evening, but he snapped back to reality. "You were _eavesdropping?!"_

"As soon as I heard of the quest, I went straight home and cut off all my hair. I can't very well go on an adventure with hair like that!"

"No- _No!_ You're not going on an adventure at all… You're just a child!"

"I'm _not_ a child," she huffed. "I'm 35! I've been a woman grown for the last two years, and the only thing I have ever heard is how I should be getting married! I don't want to get married! I don't want to have children! They're annoying and always sticky and smell like fertilizer!"

Bilbo sighed deep and long, his face turning stern, trying his best to be the protective older cousin. "Fiona… It is far too dangerous. Your father would never want you to go gallivanting into the east with a bunch of strange dwarves."

"Then come with me! We would have such a story to tell! Come!"

"I am _not_ going, and neither are you!"

Silence befell upon them, both hobbits staring at each other; Bilbo kept his stern face on as best he could, and Fiona's steely gaze held his, her mouth in a firm line and her brows furrowed. Suddenly he caught her eyes shift over to the right, and instinctively he followed her gaze and noticed that the contract was still sitting there, a blank space for the burglar's signature. The corner of her lip upturned, and soon the dimples in her cheeks deepened with her wide smirk.

"No—!" Bilbo leapt towards the contract, knowing in an instant what she was thinking. However the damnable Took was far quicker than him despite her being farther away from where the contract sat.

Fiona was at it like an arrow, darting under his arm before he could grab her or the long parchment. That was when the chase began. Took and Baggins running amok around the house, and much to Bilbo's displeasure, making a mess of his home… _again._ Fiona bounced on furniture, knocked down chairs, making Bilbo scream after her, crying about his father's arm chair.

"FIONA! YOU ARE NOT SIGNING THAT CONTRACT!"

"I AM GOING WHETHER YOU APPROVE OR NOT!" She shouted back, finding his desk with all his scrolls and quills and made a quick grab for the feather and for good measure, a bottle of ink.

Bilbo halted abruptly when he saw his cousin standing in the middle of the living room, holding up a untouched white apron, a bottle of black ink in the other hand as well as the long contract. His eyes widened and his hands lifted in the air.

"No! Fiona… That's… That's my mothers— your aunt's apron. That ink will not wash off—"

"Say you will come with me. It will be like when we were children— please!"

Bilbo breathed deeply, his bottom jaw jutting in out a bit in his frustration. This was not his week, it seemed… First Gandalf, then 14 dwarves, and now his cousin were invading his private space. Then what? Was he really considering doing this? Was she really going to pour black ink on the apron his mother wore all the time? He had _just_ managed to wash out the wine stains!

With a great sigh, his shoulders dropped, " _Fine._ "

— — —

"I said it. Didn't I say it? Coming here was a waste of time," Dori repeated a seventh time.

They had left Hobbiton a while ago, and just managed to reach the borders of the Shire. Bellamy knew that Bilbo's absence was temporary of course, so he didn't make any comment. What he _did_ do was make a bet, and since majority wasn't in favour of Bilbo, Bellamy knew that his purse would become quite heavy very soon.

There was a distinct advantage in knowing exactly what was going to happen, so Bellamy took a lot of pride in that. It left what he knew what was going to happen seem less scary, and more exciting. As long as he was prepared for it, there was nothing to be afraid of —

"WAIT!"

"Speak of the dev—" Bellamy looked over his shoulder, ready to see the hurrying hobbit running down the glade. Though what he saw wasn't what he was prepared for at all… Instead of one hobbit, there were _two_. A boy with short orange hair ran along side of Bilbo, the contract being waved in his hand. A smile stretching his incredibly youthful…. and feminine face?

The extra did not go unnoticed by the others, especially since he— she?— was the first to come up running to the group with a huge dimpled grin. When Bilbo reached them, he heaved over and tried to catch his breath, lifting up a finger indicating to give him a moment. Bellamy could vaguely hear Mr. Baggins whimper, "Too fast… Eru help me. She has the legs of a gazelle."

Gandalf reared his horse a bit to get a better look at the second hobbit, his brow furrowing and a frown deepened for a moment before the wrinkles in his face softened. "Fiona Took! Why am I not surprised?"

"Hello Gandalf! Did you forget about me when you went looking for a hobbit for this quest?"

"Regretfully I did _,"_ Gandalf smiled somewhat guilty, "But how is that you found out about it, if I may ask?"

Bilbo somewhat regained his composure and breath, "She-she overheard— she threatened —" He took a deep breath and finally relaxed. "She eavesdropped last night… cornered me in my own home, threatened my mother's apron, and! And she—" He turned to point at the contract, which Fiona was waving about.

"I signed it! I signed the contract."

"That!" Bilbo placed his hands on his hips, clearly not at all pleased with the current situation.

Thorin turned to Gandalf with a deadpanned look, "This has to be a joke." He tone was flat. "We need a burglar, not a child… Mr. Baggins was already a disappointment, and in his place we are given a _woman_ hobbit who hasn't even grown out her feet."

"Hey, look here, you furry son of a—"

"FIONA!" Bilbo scolded.

Bellamy snorted.

Gandalf winced.

Thorin's brows raised up to his hairline.

A lot of reactions took place, and none of them hindered the ginger.

"— I am _thirty-five years old_. I am not a child. I am _also_ the tallest Took maid in all of the Shire. I am quick, like a fox, and I can fish, hunt, and I've climbed to the top of the largest tree in Arnor. You want a burglar, I'm your Hobbit," She practically threw the contract at Thorin, who was still staring at her with mild astonishment.

He caught it, and then looked at it before turning his piercing gaze back on the haughty little creature standing below him with her hands on her hips, and her hair on fire under the sun. "You've got spirit in you, Miss Took," he admitted and then handed over the contract to Balin who looked it over with a pair of spectacles. "Which is more than I could say for your…" He looked over at Bilbo for a moment.

"—Cousin," The hobbit in question answered.

"Everything appears to be in order," Balin said at last. "The lass has signed her name in place of Bilbo's… However," he looked up at peered at Mr. Baggins. "If your presence here, Mr. Baggins, means that you'll be joining us as well, then your name must be on this contract as well. For legal reasons."

Bilbo opened his mouth and shared a look with Gandalf, before turning to Balin, "But I'm no burglar—"

"Two Hobbits are better than one," The Wizard said. "Unless you wish to change your mind and go back to your Hobbit Hole."

Bilbo shook his head vigorously, "No, no, no… No offence to the lot of you, but I am not entirely comfortable leaving my baby cousin with a bunch of strange dwarf men."

"No offence taken," Bofur smiled kindly.

"Then it is best that you sign under her name," Balin presented the contracted over the side of his pony and pulled out a pen from a pocket of one of his bags.

Bilbo hesitated before taking the pen, casting Fiona a look before shaking his head and then scribbling down his name underneath 'Fiona Took'.

"I can't believe I'm doing this."

"Welcome, Miss Fiona, and Master Baggins to the company of Thorin Oakensheild," Balin smiled as the company began small cheers for having not one, not two, but _three_ burglars.

"Give'em a pony," Thorin said at once.

Unfortunately, there was only one pony left, and Bilbo insisted on letting Fiona have it, though he did not have any choice in the matter. Two dwarves hooked him by the shoulder and heaved him onto the one available pony, that only had room for one, what with the packs and bound up blankets strapped to it. Fiona was willing to share with a dwarf, and quite instantly took to one Dwarf in particular: Bellamy.

"Hello!" She beamed at him from her place behind. "Nice to see you again."

The thief furrowed his brow, looking over his shoulder a bit, "Do I know you?" His mind was still foggy in his own thoughts, trying to comb his memory of the events that happened the last two days…anything that could indicate how this could possibly happen. He was so careful not to do or say anything that could jeopardize the story of the Hobbit…because it could ultimately affect the outcome of the Lord of the Rings books. This addition, this Fiona Took, could change everything…

Fiona laughed, "Oh, you probably don't recognize me… I cut off all my hair." She ran her hand through her short pixie cut. "I was with my sisters in our garden when we saw you pass through town. You made quite the impression on my sister, Daisy."

Bellamy's face dropped suddenly, remembering the hobbit girls earlier the other day. The image of a fiery looking girl with a nest of orange curls running towards the fence to watch them walk away. _That? That was it? My flirting had caused a butterfly effect?_ His heart began to beat frantically. Why should he be surprised? Simply _being_ here would surely affect the story, and that was frightening even more. His grip on his reigns tightened, a sudden urge to steer the pony the other way and run back to Hobbiton and return the girl and then return to the Blue Mountains himself. But it was _too late_. Her name was on the contract, and he already made promises. Promises that this time around he would keep.

 _This is why I need you, Arielle,_ he thought bitterly, _You would have more sense. You're the logical one. The smart one._

Fiona went on about how Daisy was so smitten by Bellamy's suaveness, that she had convinced Fiona to go and find out who the mystery dwarf was. That was why she ended up in Bilbo's garden in the first place, eavesdropping the entire night. Bellamy could barely pay attention, because he was too busy mentally punishing himself for being so careless.

"Won't your parents be worried for you, lass?" Asked Dori, who had been listening on the one-sided conversation.

Fiona laughed, "Perhaps. I have so many brothers and sisters, that I don't think they would even notice, to be honest. One time I spent a fortnight in my tree house just outside Mr. Sandyman's Mill, and not even my mother saw my being missing. I think they just assumed I was getting into some trouble and let me deal with my affairs."

"I've never met a hobbit quite like you, Miss Took," Fili said from her right. "Actually, you and Master Baggins would be the first."

Fiona laughed, "I take that as a compliment all the same. Please, call me Fiona… Miss Took is far too formal for my taste."

Bellamy couldn't help but question the parenting skills of Fiona's father and mother. Though she _was_ a woman grown, according to her, and was a few years older than Frodo when he went on his journey. Still, he couldn't help but feel responsible for her life, even if she had no relation to him at all. He was, indirectly, the reason why she had came.

Sometime after Bilbo complained about missing his handkerchief, Fiona had noticed Bellamy's lute strapped to his ruck sack on the side of the pony. "You're a bard too?"

"The most annoying one," Fili joked beside him.

"Only because you've been losing your wagers with him," Kili reminded him cheekily. The youngest Durin son caught the eyes of the Hobbit girl, and gave her a light smile. "Bellamy's quite good… Knows songs about everything."

"Really?" The redhead peered at her travelling companion. "Songs about _everything?_ "

"He's particularly known for singing love ballads," Kili added, and then shot Bellamy a wiggly-brow look.

"Oh, I bet all the maidens love _that_ ," Fiona softly laughed and then patted his shoulder. "Come on now, sing me a song, and I'll join."

"I'm afraid you don't know any of the songs that I know," Bellamy's warning didn't hinder her. She was already unstrapping his lute and giving it to him.

"Then make one up! I'll join in…"

"How would that work if you don't know the song?" Bellamy cradled the lute in his arm, looking over his shoulder a tad but still keeping his eyes ahead of him. He spotted Thorin up a head, who likely could hear this conversation as a deep frown passed his face.

"Hobbits can improvise easily when it comes to song," she patted him again and readied herself. "Come on, Master Dwarf, before the sun disappears."

With a sigh of defeat, Bellamy looked down at the instrument and struggled to think of something off the top of his head. Truth be told the songs he had sung in the past had all been written before by artists in his world, though he freely called them his own here. It wasn't like he would get sued, and as long as the invisible force controlling his every move made a disclaimer that she did not own anything, she wouldn't either.

After a few seconds of strumming the lute, eventually Bellamy got a tune. Gentle and calming, and slightly folksy. He licked his bottom lip before he sang with a sliver of uncertainty of his words. "I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne'er fear of drowning," _oh, god what am I doing?_ "And gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me. No scorching sun, nor freezing cold, will stop me from my journey. If you will promise me your heart. And love…" He trailed off, suddenly very aware that he couldn't get _her_ face out of his mind. It was so strong, this feeling, that he found himself at a loss for words. Silence rang in the forest among the company, and a few dwarves looked over their shoulder to see the stumped Bellamy on his pony.

Fiona, however, was his hero, and took this opportunity to finish for him. "And love me for eternity! My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me, but I've no need for mighty deeds, when I feel your arms around me." Her arms wrapped rightly around his shoulders, which gave Bellamy some courage and inspiration. The tempo started to speed up.

"But I would bring you rings of gold, I'd even sing you poetry," Bellamy continued, surprising himself at how easy the words came to him. "And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me."

Fiona swayed behind him, quick to follow up right after, "I have no use for rings of gold, I care not for your poetry, I only want your hand to hold, I only want you near me~" She reached out and bopped Kili's nose, which caused him to become red from nose to ears.

For a interlude, Bellamy continued playing on his lute, and Fiona joined him, singing "la, la, la, la," to the melody. Twenty seconds past and then she helped herself to the final verse of the song that they made up. It was true, as she said, that hobbits were very good at improvising songs. Perhaps that was why Frodo and everyone sung so many in the books.

"To love, to kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming. Through all my sorrows and delights, I'll keep your love beside me. I'll swim and sail on savage seas, with ne'er fear of drowning, and gladly ride the waves of life, if you will marry me!"

When she had finished, there was applause from the dwarves and many compliments. Fili nudged Bellamy on the shoulder, a shit eating grin on his face as he promptly pointed out, "She's better than you, mate."

Somewhere ahead of them, Bellamy could vaguely hear Dwalin huff and mutter to himself, "Another goddamn _bard._ "

* * *

 **I'm starting to see that very little ever read my author's notes, and those who do won't respond to them. I have asked for opinions in the past chapters, but got 0 responses about them. And judging by some messages I get, the questions I've gotten were always responded in the author's notes.**

 **I am very grateful for the reviews I have gotten! It was more than I expected since the last time I updated, so big thanks**

 **I just wish more of you would read my author's notes, because I don't write them just to have a one-sided conversation.**

 **Anyways, as always, I posted the song and Fiona Took's casting in the pinterest linked in my profile.**

 **Happy Readings xoxox**

 **qtj**


	11. x - His Campfire Story

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **SONGS IN THIS CHAPTER:**

 _Steal Your Heart Away_ by Fleetwood Mac

 **CASTINGS FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 _Ginnifer Goodwin_ as Dís

* * *

 **CHAPTER X  
** _His Campfire Story_

* * *

Blue Mountains. Midyear's Day, TA 2940

(Under a year ago)

The Mountains were alive with movement from many different bodies of the dwarf community. It was still morning and the festival to celebrate the Midyear's day would start when the sun set. Then the fireworks would light up the sky and everyone below will drink themselves into a stupor. So, pretty much every day, but with fire works.

The wee dwarf children were very lively that day, flying kites as the adults worked. Well, most of the adults. Bellamy was the only one that didn't work _at all_ , not even to help set up for the night's festivities. He was too busy sitting on a huge rock in the marketplace, playing his lute for the children. It was his way of being lazy, but not looking idle, though that didn't fool one dwarf in particular.

" _Thief!"_ Shouted a voice that could only come from a vicious sow of a woman.

Bellamy winced and paused his playing and then slowly turned around on his seat to look at the viper blue eyes of Lady Dís. He did _owe_ his life — even if he wouldn't lose it — to her, seeing as she opted to keep him alive after he was caught stealing food. Or at least in one piece and outside of the prison. However he had been a disappointment to her, since he didn't even lift a single finger to work and be a productive member of society, which was unheard of in a dwarfish community.

"I do have a name, Lady Dís," He called as he watched her from above. Her glare never wavered, her face never moved. Bellamy half expected her to climb up there, grab him by his ear and drag him into a corner.

"I know, and I've elected to ignore that name, as it is not a suitable name for anyone with a cock," her hands went from her waist to folded over her chest.

Normally Bellamy disregarded any insults directed about his name and his masculinity, but for what ever reason this made him wince. "You break my hard, my lady. What have I done to hurt you that you insult my very name?"

"Nothing! You do nothing! Nothing but sit all day, singing about bloody nonsense, and you don't earn a lick of anything yourself, you just rob people's pockets — and don't say that isn't what you're doing. I may not witness it myself, but you have an awful lot of coin on you for someone who doesn't work." By now the children were giggling and looking between the two in amusement.

Bellamy couldn't help but smirk at her detective skills, though still, he would never admit to thieving, since that would get him put to jail surely. Thankfully, the lady didn't have any proof of his criminal activity, even if it was common sense by now. "Who said I don't work? I make decent wages by singing songs."

"People who pay for songs are just about as stupid as the people who play them," her arms swung to her sides and then her finger pointed at him. "You better do something, thief. You can't charm and sing your way through life."

"I've done so thus far!" He grinned, and then looked at the little ones. "Haven't I, children?"

They giggled in response, some of them boldly nodding and yelling "yeah!" which greatly annoyed Dís.

"Shall I sing my lady a song, and she can decide if it was worth a pence or two?" The kids all agreed, but Dís's rejection came in a huff and she promptly turned around. Bellamy however, slid off the boulder and began to trail behind her.

"All alone we go on day after day, all alone we suffer. Oh, to steal your heart away," As Dís continued walking, Bellamy remained the safe distance of 10 feet, while the children followed his tail. The music caught everyone's attention, especially since it was now travelling, and even more so when they saw the sour look on Thorin Oakensheild's sister.

"It's the same old thing in the same old way. All alone we suffer. Oh, to steal your heart away. And the lie was creeping… down, down, down, while we were sleeping. Suddenly we hit the ground. So come on, let's go, let's run away! If that's all, all there is. Oh, to steal your heart away—"

"Enough!" Dís shouted and spun around. The outburst wiped the smile on Bellamy's face straight away, even more so when he saw how red her face had become. Had he stepped over a line? Suddenly she reached into her coat, and for a moment he thought she was gonna pull out a knife and throw it at his forehead, but instead she pulled out a purse and threw two pieces at his chest that quickly fell to his feet. "That is for you to shut the _fuck_ up, and _leave_ me _alone._ "

After that she promptly walked away in a huff, leaving Bellamy standing there completely gobsmacked, and a few dwarfish merchants chuckling at the display.

* * *

 _Outside of Bree, 27th Astron_

The first night the company spent was just outside of Breeland near the base of the Weather Hills. They decided to call it a day when they saw the jagged hills ahead, believing it would take a whole day just to pass them without falling to their their deaths. Going around would take longer, so that was out of the question.

The sun was blocked by forest as it set, leaving an orange and pink sky above the company as they prepared a fire for food. Bellamy was idly humming as he helped Bombur construct a pit so they could roast the rabbits that Kili and Fiona had hunted when they passed through a glen.

"What's that your humming?" The she-hobbit asked, as she sat upon a fallen tree and watched him work. While normally Bellamy didn't mind the company of women, Fiona was rather annoying with her million and one questions, and her never ending stories. Thorin, though, loved it, because he knew it annoyed the thief greatly. Every once in a while, Oakenshield would look over his shoulder in amusement when he could hear the exasperation in Bellamy's tone.

"Just a tune," Bellamy sighed as he tightly tied two branches together to create a sturdy triangle.

"Are there words to this tune?" The past 12-13 hours, Bellamy so far had sung _four_ songs all because of the little hobbit that rode with him. His voice was tired, and his fingers were sore from stringing his lute. Even _humming_ was taxing on his throat, but it was an idle habit when he was working. Now, he kind of wished that he didn't, as she took a quick notice.

He didn't answer, but she took it as if he did, "Would you sing it?" Her eyes wide and hopeful, and Bellamy did all he could do not to sigh loudly and irritably.

"It's getting dark, and we're not in a place where we can afford having music without being heard by unwanted company," he stood up and secured the pit.

Somewhere off in the distance, he could hear Gloin, "Didja hear that? The lass has done the impossible… she shut up'im up!" The fiery dwarf laughed heartedly.

" _Finally!"_ Dwalin nearly yelled, "If I have to hear one more _bloody_ song…"

Fiona sighed and crossed her legs, looking like a freckled pixie without wings. In fact, she actually _looked_ like Peter Pan, with the haircut and the disappointed pout. Bellamy hoped that the pout was permanent, and that it would keep her quiet until the morning.

Once Bombur put the skinned rabbits on the spit, the rest of the company began to circle around the fire, waiting for food to be presented to them. Oin and Gloin were just outside of the circle, taking first watch.

"You may not be able to sing _right now, but_ ," Bilbo plopped down next to him, surprisingly. His spirits have turned less sour since they departed, and Bellamy supposed it was because he was just now getting the thrill of leaving the Shire. "Aren't bards story tellers? I've always found stories around campfires are the best kinds."

Bellamy looked at Bilbo for a moment, before turning to look at Fiona, who's eyes glittered hopeful from the flickering fire. He then looked at everyone else, and noticed that nearly everyone had the same look. Save for a chosen few.

"Save your story requests, Master Baggins," Thorin droned, arms crossed as he leaned against a tilting tree. "The only stories he knows are of thieves. Not the most honourable folktales, I'd wager."

Bellamy squinted up at the dwarf through the flying embers and then sat up straight. "I've got a tale. A tale of a thief," He began, though this didn't gain Thorin's attention at all. If anything, it made him roll his eyes and go sit a little farther away so he didn't have to be apart of it. "However, he was no ordinary thief. In fact, he was the most selfless one of all… His name was Robin Hood, and he was known for stealing from the rich…and giving to the poor."

The story, or at least Bellamy's rendition of the classic tale of Robin Hood enthralled the company. He even spied Thorin look over to the campfire in concealed interest. The food was prepared while he told the story, only stopped every once in a while when he were asked questions. It was thankfully easy to tell a story like Robin Hood, when cultures were rather similar, save for the exclusion of the races of elves, dwarves, orcs, wizards, and others. Bellamy considered to add in the whole chastity belt bit from Men in Tights, but decided against it.

"Is that… is that the type of thief you are? The one who gives to the poor?" Bilbo asked suddenly, and the question made Thorin snort.

Bellamy would have answered, had it not been for Thorin. "No, Master Baggins… he is exactly like _every_ thief… Selfish and has his head far up his ass."

"That makes two of us," Bellamy bitterly remarked, though he didn't regret it even though Thorin gave him a sharp glare.

They both stared each other in a match of piercing gazes, unblinking and unwavering. Fiona's own eyes shifted back and fourth between the two before she slowly placed down her empty bowl, having finished her rabbit stew, and then cleared her throat.

"Should we leave you two alone?" The comment definitely got their attention, because both green and blue lasers were directed at her now.

Bellamy's jaw went slack when he rolled his eyes and sighed, and turned his face towards his half eaten stew. He never felt more exhausted in the longest time, and he suddenly lost his appetite — _Thanks, Fiona —_ so he gave the rest to Bombur and got up to let Oin and Gloin go eat.

"I only jest," Fiona was a little confused and guilty that her comment made Bellamy leave. Fili scooted over to where she sat and patted her shoulder, trying to ease her.

"It's not you, miss Fiona," the blonde nodded towards his uncle and then shifted his eyes towards Bellamy's back as he sat a few yards away from their campsite. "My uncle and Bellamy have never seen eye-to-eye. Never been friends."

Fiona furrowed her brow, "Why's that?"

"Because," Thorin began, his voice rather loud and gruff. "He attempted to take something precious that he had no right in taking."

Both Fili and Kili gave their uncle a curious look, but Thorin simply let his jaw and shoulders ease a bit. Fili and Kili had no idea, and as much he wanted them to know, he found it toying with his conscious to do so. For what ever reason, he couldn't destroy the friendship they built with _Bellamy Graves_.

"Never mind," he added with a withering look, and then abandoned his rabbit stew with Bombur. "Fili, Kili, why don't you make yourself useful and join your _friend_ in night's watch."

They didn't protest, but they did send Fiona a sorry look before standing up and shuffling over to Bellamy's single form. Thorin stood up then and moved over to the exact opposite direction, where he set up his things and blankets, but instead sat upon a flat rock and pulled out his pipe.

Fiona's curiosity wasn't something anyone could contain, so she found herself standing up and following the dwarf king. Bilbo attempted to reach and pull her sleeve to stop her, but she was quick and he found himself falling on his side in defeat.

It didn't take long for Thorin to realize that his solitude was no more; it was hard to miss Fiona Took when she approached, because her hair was a vibrant orange that was vivid in colour in the firelight.

"What do you want, Miss Took?" He asked, using flint and steel to light his pipe.

"A story," she said simply, plopping down in front of him and crossed her legs. Her larger than normal, yet smaller than hobbit-normal, feet tucked under her knees.

"Haven't you had enough of stories?" He grunted the question.

"I never have enough of stories… or songs. I never get to hear any when I'm home."

Thorin found that odd, even for him. Even when he was a child, his mother would tuck him into bed with his brother and sister and she would tell glamorous tales of the past sons of Durin, and other mighty dwarves. For a hobbit, though, he understood that stories and songs were about as common to them as knowing how to smith for a dwarf. Though the rueful look on the hobbit's face told him that she was completely serious, and not exaggerating.

"That explains a lot," he commented, and then took a puff from his pipe. "I have no stories for you, Miss Took."

Her lips pursed and her brows arched irritably, and Thorin was almost taken back by the almost adult expression she pulled. "Stop calling me _Miss Took._ Or _Lady Took_. Fiona. My name is Fiona."

"Fine. I do not have any stories for you, _Fiona,_ " He rolled his eyes and tried to pretend she wasn't there by focusing on a star peaking through some tree branches.

There was some silence, but the girl wouldn't leave him alone. After some beats, she finally said spoke, "Fine. I'll tell you a story."

Thorin sighed audibly, and his eyes rolled to the back of his head. "Mahal," he muttered under his smoky breath.

"I call it _The_ _Late Guest_. It starts with a girl, spying under a window in the garden of her cousin's. She watched from the window as a company of thirteen hairy men, and one really tall old man make a disaster out of her cousin's house. While the scene was rather amusing to her, what she saw a half hour later, was not. The last guest, who happened to be the _Late_ _Guest_ , finally found himself standing in front of the door.

"He didn't knock, though, because something seemed to bother him. The girl watched curiously from her hidden spot behind a now destroyed bush — _don't tell Bilbo_ — and saw, to her amazement, a pair of shockingly blue eyes. Even in her short life, this girl knew that these eyes had seen much, because from where she sat she could see how tired they were.

"The man held his emotions as he sat outside the door for a while, knowing he couldn't partake in the company's mirth at the moment. For what ever happened earlier that day, weighed on his shoulders like a dooming defeat. The girl cried for him, though she didn't know why, but she could _feel_ the suffering soul from where she sat.

"Though something changed in the wind that night, and it happened when the man at last summoned the courage to knock on the door. He was a different man when he walked through the threshold… he wasn't defeated, he wasn't broken, and the company of men could feel it. _She_ could feel it. They all looked at him like an untainted, unscathed beacon of hope… but they didn't know what laid beneath his iron hyde. They didn't know that he, too, was imperfect, tired, and aging faster than any of them. Because if they did, they would lose hope, as his own hope was dwindling with every bad news."

Thorin stared at her, his pipe long forgotten. He hung onto every word, but at the same time he couldn't help but let his mind scream with every realization of what just happened. This strange girl, this hobbit who was the most annoying creature who ever walked this green earth, saw him at his most vulnerable; a side that he made sure no one has ever seen. Who was she to point out his flaws? And _why? What was the point for this ludicrous story that was in the end, a confession?_

"That was a horrible story," he growled, bringing the pipe to his lips and removing his eyes from her and back onto the star.

She gave a light shrug and rolled her eyes innocently, "I thought it was good. I'm a sucker for a story about someone who is more than they seem. A king who is just as afraid as his kingdom, but swallows his fears for their sake. Or a thief, who— well, I don't know Bellamy story yet. _Do you_?"

To say that Thorin was caught off guard by Fiona's words was an understatement. His pipe dropped a fraction from his lips as he found himself looking at her with slightly wide eyes. Fiona gave him another innocent shrug and stood up, and his eyes followed her.

"Good night, Mister Oakensheild," she smiled, stuffed her hands in her jacket pocket, and began retreating to the rest of the company. While his eyes followed her, his mind screaming to make some kind of retort about her nonsense words of "wisdom", but he was just too shocked that she had the audacity to teach him a lesson. _She! A child!_

Thorin caught the shadowed eyes of the wizard, who stood beyond the campfire. As if he knew what the conversation was, he had a subtle smirk that Thorin could easily detect as amusement. He lifted his pipe to him, and the dwarf king growled and threw his to the ground in frustration.

" _Women,_ " he muttered as he stomped out the embers of the tobacco, and sent a withering glare at the insulting woman in question.

* * *

 **Apologies that this is a rather short chapter. I'm contemplating on making less Bellamy chapters, because I don't have a lot material for them, and I mainly use them to show where he is, what he's been doing, and giving more background info on who he and Arielle was.**

 **I WOULD LOVE OPINIONS ON THE NEW SUMMARY. IF I SHOULD PUT IT BACK, OR MAKE A BETTER ONE.**

 **Happy Readings xoxo**

 **QTJ**


	12. xi - Her Moonless Night

**King and Lionheart**

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 **RANDOM FACT #2:**

The original title for this story was going to be Thief of Virtue, inspired by the book in Skyrim.  
But in the end, I decided there wasn't really anything virtuous about Arielle or Bellamy.  
They're both pretty selfish, lol.

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 **REVIEW REPLIES**

Sakura Hatsu _chapter 11 . Oct 28:_

 **Thanks for the feedback, hon! Haha, yes, Fiona has Peter Pan syndrome, not just in her appearance. That becomes an issue later on.**

BluMoonLeo _chapter 10 ._ _Oct 29_ :

 **All your reviews are so lovely! I love long reviews, especially how generous you were with what you like and find interesting! I got all excited when I saw that you reviewed almost every chapter. It was very flattering. I was worried that most people would skip Bellamy's chapters overall, because as I understand it, a majority of my readers came for only the Thrandy romance, which is fine. But I don't like to be shallow in my romance, and give depth to every character. Bellamy is a key player in Arielle's life, because he's the reason why she's even there in the first place. That's why I included Fiona, in an attempt for people to read his chapters, since his chapters review more of Arielle's past, not just in flashbacks either. In later chapters he is asked certain questions from a certain someone. There is also more foreshadowing in Bellamy's chapters. Also, the explanation of Thranduil's small confession to Arielle before they went to Tharnor's happens in this chapter, so your question will be answered right now ^-^**

Mathde _chapter 11 . Oct 29:_

 **Thank you for the review! Yeah, at this point, I think I will have a Fiona/Thorin romance, especially after the last chapter I just finished. It probably won't be as passionate as I planned Thranduil and Arielle's, but it will add more drama to the Dwarf side of the story.**

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 **CHAPTER XI  
** _Her Moonless Night_

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"You never told me you had another aunt," Arielle whispered under her breath to Maeleth as soon as dinner was over and they gathered into the lounge area.

Maeleth looked distracted, her hands kept on fidgeting, and she barely regarded Arielle when she spoke, "I haven't told you a lot of things of my family, and you suggested that was best. Why are they of import now?"

Arielle had an inkling that this woman, this _Amarthel_ , was going to be important based on the reactions of not only Maeleth and Thranduil, but Legolas too. In fact, her name had made such unease to the table that desert was served in awkward small talk. As soon as they left the dining room, Thranduil practically sprinted towards the bar, uncorked another wine, and poured himself a generous glass.

Maeleth licked her lips and turned to Arielle, "She isn't my first aunt. She's my father's aunt… and," her eyes shifted over to the others, making sure that they were too busy chatting among themselves to notice this whispering. Thranduil was looking at her, or at Arielle, she couldn't tell. "We'll talk about this later." With that, Maeleth left Arielle standing near the dinning entrance, and went to join Legolas, Rhovanor, and Tauriel in the nook in the floor.

Arielle instead walked straight to the bar where the King still stood, his back facing her as she joined him at the counter.

"Would you like a drinking companion?" Her fingers drummed the counter as she seated herself on a stool.

Thranduil didn't say anything, instead he pulled out another glass goblet and filled it with what ever he had opened for himself. Like his own, he was generous with it, filling it nearly to the rim.

"Don't spill it… it would be an awful waste, since it is thirty times older than you," he drawled, moving the rim of the goblet to his lips and taking a rather large, uncharacteristically improper gulp.

The pressure to drink without it spilling was thick when he stated that, and Arielle, for what ever reason, thought she would look less of a fool if she let the glass sit on the table without her touching it and sipped it from there. Thranduil watched her in the corner of his eye, what ever shadow casted over his mind waned away and was replaced with a twitching smile.

"I often forget that you are of my kin," he commented. "Sometimes I question if you're also a bit of a dwarf."

A soft rose tinted her cheek when she was caught in her silliness, and she quickly sat up straight and cleared her throat. "It may explain a few things… but, alas, my birth and ancestry is as mystery to me as it is to you."

"That is unfortunate," Thranduil began while looking at the glass in his hand. "I don't think I could fathom what it would feel like to be in your situation… To not know anything of where you've come from, or even to know what your father or mother looked like."

Arielle was struck by not only the empathy that the King decided to show to her, but how deeply rooted they actually were. It didn't occur to her until now that when she came to Thranduil and pleaded that she was an orphan raised by man, that she was, actually, telling the truth. It stopped bothering her so much the older she got that she didn't know who her parents were. With Bellamy, it was easily forgotten. Even after she found out that there was no documents, no birth certificates that would point her in the right direction of her birth parents, it didn't bother her so much. Bellamy was different, and he had at least the luck to know the name of his mother. Unfortunately she was dead, but he had met the woman's closest friends during his search. Thranduil's words somewhat reminded her of how truly sad it was to be in the dark… but like everything else, Arielle swallowed down those dreary thoughts with alcohol.

"Well, I _know_ what my father and mother looked like," her comment took him off guard, because he turned almost fully to her, and tilted his head. Arielle only smiled at him, "They obviously look a bit like me."

Thranduil's half smile came with some hesitance, "Your optimism is inspiring."

Arielle gave a light shrug, "I wasn't always. Optimistic, I mean."

The tilt of his head signalled his silent agreement, "I had the impression. Not many who throw back their drink as much as you and I have _not_ experienced some kind of shadow that haunts them."

The elleth rose an eyebrow, and then found herself asking, "What are your shadows?"

He stared into his cup and the distant look already spoke volumes. Arielle had already a good idea of what they were, but there was surely more that she never heard about, especially since the books published at home were vague about the Elvenking of Mirkwood. Given the information she gained from Maeleth about her aunt, Faervel, and her relationship with Thranduil, there was obviously much more to the story than what was already said. Arielle wondered if his shadows also entailed Faervel.

"I believe we haven't known each other long enough for me to give you the names of them," his voice was low and cheerless, and his eyes just the same when he turned to look at her.

Arielle nodded in understanding, and her mind began to wonder something that she had been wondering about for a few days after he had shown her to Tharnor's abode. "I do have another question," she stated, staring at her half full goblet.

"Yes, you _can_ help yourself," Thranduil answered the unasked question.

She rolled her eyes and smirked, "No. Well, _yes_ , but that wasn't what I was going to ask. Last week when I asked why didn't you stop the Chancellor from doing his… _deplorable_ hobby, you said because it would make you look like a hypocrite. What exactly did you mean?"

Thranduil's steely gaze looked at her for a moment, his mouth a thin line before it pursed and returned to drain the remaining of his drink. Once it was empty, he filled it again and then decided that, that was something he could tell her. "Before I was king, I held such morals. I believed in a polyamorous idea of love, and believed it not to be fair that the Valar restricted two souls to be bound together after consummation and marriage, even if the other dies or if their love grows stale, if there was any infatuation to begin with.

"My father greatly discouraged my way of thinking, knowing more than I of the possible punishments the Valar would bestow on me should I continue the way I did. However it was him that I had adopted these thoughts, because of the relationship he had with my mother. My mother was from Doriath, like all Sindar, though she was merely an acquaintance to my father. She was high of birth, so she made a suitable match for my father who became the King of the Silvan Elves of the Woodland Realm. I knew it was possible to love two or more people at a time, because even though my father loved my mother, he had eyes for another: a silvan seamstress that made his entire wardrobe. I barely spoke to her myself, but I knew by the looks he gave her from across the feasting halls that he held a deeper regard for her that surpassed friendship. The seamstress was a childless widow, and I could tell she longed for companionship, yet she, like my father, were traditional and honoured the Valar and kept their feelings at bay. Though it was evident, to me, to my mother, how much it pained them to not be able to act on their yearning; not a simple kiss, a hand to hold, or even a brush of fingers.

"My mother _and_ the seamstress sailed west when my father perished in the Battle of Dagorlad. I truly believed that he loved them both romantically, but I often wonder if my mother and the seamstress had a mutual understanding."

"Do you still keep true to those morals, or have they changed?" Arielle asked, examining his profile and how it contrasted with the night sky behind him. He looked like the crescent moon, his face reflecting a pale glow, and his hair sparkling like starlight. A welcoming sight since there was a new moon outside.

"I had intended to change rule in the Woodland Realm that remarrying would become legal, and I had started with Tharnor when he came to my court as my steward. During some short years before the dawning of the Third Age, the Woodland Realm had many elves come to aid our wounded and weak, most of them ellith. Tharnor and I had made it a game to see how many we could seduce into our beds. We never consummated with any of them, but there were other means of pleasure. It got competitive, and we both started to see them as trophies, and there was one elleth in particular that seemed to us as a grand prize."

Arielle sucked her breath, realizing now _who_ Thranduil was talking about. It seemed the wine had made the Elvenking a little loose lipped himself, and he seemed to realize this because he stopped speaking and his jaw tightened.

With a great sigh and stiff shoulders he spoke again, "To make a long tale short, things got out of hand, and in order to stop a besmirch to my reputation, I got married to Legolas's mother, and had him shortly after. Tharnor, however, hasn't ceased his practices, despite my interventions."

"I don't see how that would make you a hypocrite," Arielle mused. "If you've obtained your redemption, it only sounds like you are giving Tharnor a chance at it as well."

His eyes shifted to her, the muscles in his face twitching in an attempt to look like stone, but they betrayed him. He looked utterly guilty, and he freely confessed, "I am no where near obtaining my redemption."

Arielle opened her mouth to ask another question, but Thranduil was saved from a further inquisition when Rhovanor practically leapt from the couch to point outside.

"Look! A shower of stars!"

Both the thief and the king turned to look at the high arching windows, and indeed saw the night sky being lit with hundreds of shooting stars lining the sky and then twinkling out of existence. Around that time they both joined the others in the floor nook, and sat upon a couch together. While Arielle had left her empty goblet at the bar, Thranduil kept his firmly in his hand, though it was just as forgotten. While Arielle was enthralled by the celestial display, it was Thranduil who was enthralled by how they reflected against the shine of her eyes. The deep blue was the perfect canvas for stars, and a very familiar feeling grew in the core of his chest. A feeling that he promptly attempted to drink down back into the shadows of his mind.

A strange breeze blew into the room that evening, and Thranduil worried what it will bring into his kingdom.

— — —

That night, Arielle took advantage of the moonless night. It was three in the morning at least, and by now the elves of Mirkwood would be in a deep meditation. Particularly Tharnor, who she knew by observing his daily schedules, typically went to meditate at two in the morning until six in the morning.

Dawning her thief attire, Arielle made sure that every loose hair and strand was in place before she looked to her hand. In the dull candle light the Stone of Nyx glimmered like a pulse, beckoning her to be used again. The thief held the ring in her finger and turned it over so the stone was facing her palm, and in a blink of an eye she was gone. The candle flickered out, the door opened then closed, and a strange wind tickled the curtains that bordered the balcony. The invisible elf was gone, scaling down the cave face and onto the roof of a flet as light as a shadow, and then scampered off like a black cat.

There were some elves that lurked the halls, either done with their night meditations or refraining from it. Mostly guards or servants, preparing things for when their employers awake. Though an elf's ear could pick up the sound of a crumb falling, it was impossible, no matter the species, to hear the footfalls of a shadow. Arielle, under the cloak of the ring was about the weight and structure of a shadow. A bit like smoke, should it move and have form like a sentient being.

There was a balcony in Tharnor's abode, not above the entrance, but hovering over a steep drop, and it faced the market place with the grand fountain of one of the Valar. Reaching it would surely be a task, as the cave face didn't have much to grab on, but there wasn't a wall that Arielle couldn't scale. Granted, there were some tricky ones back home, flat and sometimes made out of smooth concrete or steel even, but that's why she always came prepared.

Grappling was the only option it seemed, especially at the way the wall jutted, as if hiding the fact that there was a balcony. The only reason she knew of it's existence was that during the week while in that very marketplace, on that very fountain, she sat down and glanced up. Tharnor was looking at her from that enclosure of stone, to which she promptly gave him a middle finger, even though the gesture was unknown to him.

Arielle gracefully and silently landed on the front of his door, then maneuvered herself so that she had a good aim to the balcony ledge. Taking out the rope and grapple, she looked around to make sure no one was within earshot, but it seemed to look relatively clear. She let the grapple fall at least a metre before she began to rapidly spin it like a windmill. Once it started to gently whistle in the wind, she threw it in a fluid motion, successfully hooking onto the balcony ledge, however not without a loud bang of iron and stone meeting. Arielle winced at the sound, and she knew that who ever was awake would surely hear it echo nearby. Unfortunately for her, once the item is off her person, it no longer is invisible, so she had to quickly swing off the side and begin climbing the rope at rapid movements and then jump on the balcony. Just when she had removed the grapple from the ledge, she heard the sound of hurried feet from down the corridor. They would not see her, but they would find excuse to inspect the Chancellor's abode, and wake him up from his meditation to in form him of the alarming sound.

"Lord Tharnor," a masculine voice called from the door. "I heard a distressing sound from here. Is everything alright?"

Arielle bit her lip and rolled her tongue in her mouth, caught between remaining quiet or using her one natural talent she's had since childhood. Silently wincing at her delay of response, she decided the latter, and quickly delved in her memory of what Tharnor's voice had sound.

"Y-yes," she licked her lips after, grateful that it had sounded the way she imagined it, if only a little shaky. The voice was thrown as if it was coming just inside behind the front door, perfectly mimicked and it seemed like the guard didn't find it queer in any way. "I was undressing, and my clothes knocked over a silver platter. Apologies if it had alerted you so."

There was some hesitance before the guard responded, which briefly made Arielle panic.

"It is my job, my lord. I hope you have a good meditation," he finally responded.

"Thank you, _mellon nîn._ "

Arielle gave a quiet sigh of relief as soon as she heard the retreating footsteps of the guard. Taking no more delays, she carefully opened the glass doors and snuck into the house. Once they were closed behind her, Arielle was met with a very unpleasant sight before her. There was not one, but _two_ elves in full meditations in the grand ornate bed in the bedchamber.

 _Oh, for fuck's sake,_ Arielle rolled her eyes.

Tharnor was laying naked in the centre of the bed, his eyes wide, clouded and staring into nothingness, like most elves do in meditation. His arm was draped around a blonde elleth, who's face was hidden partially in the pit of his arm and partially from the fan of her hair. She, also, was completely nude, save for the drape of the bed sheet that was translucent enough to be able to see the coutures of her body and the dark patch between her legs. There was a very noticeable birthmark on the outside of her thigh, near her hip, about the size of a gold coin; it was almost like a loose and incomplete spiral.

Arielle was lucky that in a meditative state, elves are completely out of touch with the outside world, so Tharnor and who-ever-the-hell-this-bitch-is didn't hear the commotion that happened literally outside their window. After some internal muttering and fighting the urge to draw a mustachio on Tharnor and the girl's face, the thief left the bedchamber and into the corridor outside.

Arielle didn't get a good look inside before her brief visit, though at a quick glance she saw that it was much smaller than she anticipated, but still fairly large for only one person to live in. The main hall was oval, and a single stairway lead up to the second floor to the left. Underneath the second floor was a large open archway, which she assumed lead to the dining area or living area. On the second floor there were three rooms. Tharnor's bedchamber was in the centre, facing an open cave face where the rock branched like a tree, and between the branches were clear glass windows. A chandelier obscured it though; not as extravagant as the king's, but it was made out of oak and they were carved to look like forest animals dancing around candles. There were also sconces on the walls between each door, the lights illuminated a very light blue-purple glow that gave off a nighttime feel. On the right was a smaller door, though it remained open and she could plainly see that it was Tharnor's bathroom, which meant the only other door, on the left, _had_ to be his study.

Quickly she walked in and was met with a complete disarray of… _things_. From books, to scrolls, to loose parchments, to boxes, to charcoal, to ink bottles, _spilt_ ink bottles — everything was absolutely everywhere and in a complete disorganized mess. Arielle was so taken back by the state of this study and library that she momentarily forgotten who's study it was.

 _He is the messiest elf I've ever met,_ her eyes looked around the high ceiling room, where the shelves of books lined the walls all the way up to the ceiling, which was frightening since the room was nearly _two stories tall_.

The only thing that seemed to be untouched by clutter was a wall tapestry behind what she assumed was a desk (it had stacks of books, and scrolls littered all over it), of the star's constellations with a celtic border. She decided that the best place to start would be at that desk, so the thief stepped through the cluttered floor and sat down on the chair that was surprisingly vacant of parchment or books. The first thing she did was shuffle through the loose parchments on the desk, most of them were blank, or stained with spilt ink, some of them letters. One of which looked new and blessedly free of dust and was sitting atop the pile.

' _Lord Chancellor, I am pleased to inform you that the progress of the statue you have ordered is going swimmingly, and it shall be finished by a fortnight. However, I am going at a great pace; I found myself very much inspired by the subject, and therefore moving at full efficiency. Perhaps I will be finished sooner than I anticipated.'_

The letter had no name, though it was of unimportance to her. She briefly wondered why Tharnor would want a statue, though she'd wager it was something to do with his ego. Arielle promptly went back to search for any indication of the deed, moving through the desk drawers. Most that were inside were personal things, such as essays he wrote bound in books. Nothing that looked like a deed.

Arielle didn't know how long she had been in the study and library, going through masses of parchments and scrolls, and scrunched up letters that were all inconsequential. She found deeds, but to lands and homes that weren't what she was looking for. If it wasn't for the sconces outside that changed from a midnight blue into a hue of orange and pink to mimic the rising sun, Arielle would have not realized how long she had been rummaging through the mess. She had been hanging from a ladder, trying to pull out the scrolls that were stacked in a dusty corner upon realizing the time, and she knew that the clock was ticking. Tharnor would rise from his meditation, but as long as he didn't see her, that wasn't a problem. What was a problem was that her handmaidens will be arriving at her quarters soon enough, and it would raise some questions and concerns when they find that she is not there. Not even Maeleth knew she went out that night.

Arielle climbed down and found herself staring at the wall tapestry a seventh time that night. It was strange how everything seemed so cluttered and dusty, even some of the paintings that decorated the walls were obscured by towers of books, yet that tapestry was free of clutter and of dust. Quickly she walked over and wretched aside the tapestry to see what lay beyond it. At first glance it was nothing, just stone wall, but Arielle quickly noticed the diamond shape hole on the surface. It was too clean to be a natural dent in the stone, and the sleak and shiny surface around it betrayed the amount of times it was used by the natural oils that only skin could produce. It was a keyhole, Arielle noted, but the key wasn't normal, and she'd wager that none of her lock picking skills would help her in this department. Even if the deed was not found behind this door, there could be something infinitely more valuable to the guild, to her. In fact, if it was more valuable, she could easily turn her back on this place and go find Bellamy without worrying about an empty purse. _I could just pay people for information, instead of relying on Alf,_ though this was just hopeful thinking. For all Arielle knew, what lay behind this safe was just some sentimental family heirloom, or Tharnor's whiney diary.

The thief gave a quick look around the room before she left, making sure that there was nothing out of place before she left and closed the door. By now the sconces were illuminating the hall with almost entirely orange, meaning the dawn was upon her already. Deciding to go out the way she came, she snuck into Tharnor's bedchamber and found them still where she left them. However by the time she closed the balcony door, she could hear the elleth stir, awakening from her meditation. Arielle made quick work hanging off the edge of the balcony, just in time for the doors to open and for the elleth to inspect what had made the doors close when she woke up. The thief didn't get a good look at the girl before she closed the door, since she paying more attention at hanging on the ledge, and then scaling down the cave face until she was able to jump onto a ledge safely.

It didn't take her long to reach her own balcony, and she quickly slipped into her bedchambers, stripped down and hid her gear. The Stone of Nyx was now pointed up, shining in the candlelight once again, as did the glisten of sweat on Arielle's body. She was already physically exhausted, though any moments rest would be thwarted in a few minutes. Her handmaidens will be arriving with fresh warm water for her basin, and bring her and Maeleth's breakfast.

At least it was only Highday, so she had some time to relax her muscles before she joined Tauriel and her guard into the forest. That, she had to be mentally prepared for, and right now all she could think about was the diamond shaped keyhole, and what it could possibly be.

 _He would have it on his person at all times,_ she concluded as she slipped on her nightgown and stretched out on the bed. When she realized that she would have to get close to him once again, she let out an exhausted sigh and rubbed her eyes, _Maeleth is going to hate this…_

* * *

 **Sorry for the late update! I was having a little difficulty doing Fourteen and fifteen, and was dragging my feet. Though I rather like this chapter, especially since you get some background info on Thranduil that I totally made up. Hope you Tolkien buffs don't mind. Everyone has their own headcanons for Thrandy, and for this story I tried to be reasonable and not entirely outlandish. Next chapter will have _a lot _ of information, a lot of things that I'm afraid will upset the Tolkien buffs, because I made up a lot of things. It's a bit confusing, and I have a inkling that I'm going to get a lot of questions to clarify what was said. Anyway...I won't get into it. **

**As always, pictures for this chapter is in the pinterest.**

 **Happy Readings! xoxo**

 **qtj.**


	13. xii - Her Brush With Death

**King and Lionheart**

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 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER:**

 _Jason Isaacs_ as Galion  
 _Carice van Houten_ as Nestassel  
 _Adam Lundberg_ as Erymen  
 _Jay Tavare_ as Eithron  
 _Tilda Swinton_ as Arahael

 **REVIEW REPLIES**

Sakura Hatsu _chapter 12 . Nov 9_

 **I wouldn't say _falling_ for her just yet... It's a bit complicated, but you'll understand once some mysteries are revealed. **

BluMoonLeo _chapter 12 . Nov 13_

 **I have a feeling that people have the same inkling. I just hope it isn't toooooooo obvious. And that's a hard question! Um, of the chapters that are published already, there isn't a scene that I can honestly say that I'd love to see drawn. However, there is a very touching scene in chapter thirteen that would be nice. It's a scene that I'm anxious for everyone to read.**

* * *

 **SEMI IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

A lot happens in this chapter. I do my best to explain who Amarthel is, and why she is a problem. I know a lot of Tolkien buffs will cringe when they write this, but for anyone who has read my previous series, my signature in "self insert" stories is that the story that they know and love isn't always exactly how it is told in their "world". Now this isn't something I pulled out of my ass just for filler, because Amarthel plays a big role in future plot twists and she may return in a possible sequel that I haven't decided on having yet.

Anyway, the only issue I'm worried about is that people may be confused with how it's explained. If you are confused, let me know in a review, and in the next chapter I'll try to break it down. Even I'm a little confused about it, but in my head, it makes sense. You'll see.

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 **CHAPTER XII  
** _Her Brush With Death_

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The Privy Council were all seated around the circular table that held engravings of a compass in the wood, with a glass top concealing it. Thranduil sat at the north point, Galion, his butler and most trusted sat on his left, north east, and on the east point was the Chief Healer, Lady Nestassel. On the King's right in north west was Lord Ambassador Sírdaer, and on the west point was next to him was Keeper of Privy Purse, Lord Erymen. Directly in front of Thranduil at the south point was Chancellor Tharnor, and to the Chancellor's left on the south-west was Chamberlain Eithron, and lastly Lady Arahael, Keeper of Antiquity sat on the south-west point.

There were many in the King's Court, however only few Thranduil granted the Honourable title, who were part of the Privy Council. The seven that sat around him were — for the most part — the only souls that he truly trusted with the security and well being of his realm. Most of these faces were on his father's Council and Thranduil trusted their judgement as his father did. Others were younger, from his own choosing, one being Tharnor. However his trust in his friend has dwindled the last week or so, or perhaps more and he had only just begun noticing. Still, Tharnor knew the most intimate details of his life that no one else in this room knew of.

 _Still,_ the king thought as Tharnor conversed with Lady Arahael on his right. _His position is hanging by but a thread._ Thranduil briefly pictured his son sitting before him instead, and found himself preferring the thought. Legolas did show more promise now than Tharnor did when he was the same age.

Thranduil cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the other seven, though the King was looking at the folded letter of Maeleth's in his hand.

"What brings this impromptu meeting, my king?" Eithron asked, his voice as low as Thranduil's and his eyes heavy as well, carrying the ghosts of the past. It was him, and three others that could only truly understand the calamity of the situation.

"Lady Maeleth Greywater received a letter last night from a flushed courier," he unfolded the letter, which he obtained from one of her handmaids who took it upon his request. He slid the letter to the Chamberlain, who took it after giving his king a quizzical look.

The look turned grave once he read it and looked up, his eyes catching that of Lady Arahael and then landing on Lady Nestassel. "Lord Núron is bringing his aunt, the Lady Amarthel to Mirkwood," his eyes filled with dread when he turned to Thranduil. "You're allowing this visit?"

"Núron _had_ sent me a similar letter," Sírdaer confessed, "Though he failed to mention he was bringing… _her._ " The Ambassador turned to Thranduil slightly, "I apologize my lord. I should have told you as soon as I got the letter, though I only received it this morning."

"Núron's presence is distressing enough," Thranduil said after he nodded in forgiveness to Sírdaer. "He hasn't set foot in Mirkwood since his sister's departure. Not even when Maeleth first came here in her youth, did he come to confront me on the issue of Legolas's proposal."

"A coward's act, if you ask me," Eithron commented.

"Núron was heartbroken," Arahael's airy voice cut through the room like a sword of pure starlight. "The sight of these woods brings great sadness to him."

"With all due respect, Lady Arahael, but a father should retire such pettiness when it comes to the future of his child. When he sent those letters to cease the courtship _and_ marriage proposal from Prince Legolas, instead of coming himself and taking his daughter with him, I lost all respect for the ellon."

"Lord Núron is _not_ the problem," It was Nestassel who spoke now, who had at this point been vibrating in her chair uncomfortably. "If it was him alone, the only plight we will endure is uncomfortable conversation at dinners. My cousin Amarthel is what we need to concern ourselves with."

"Excuse my ignorance, my lords and ladies, but what is the issue that I do not see? Why does this lady Amarthel's presence draw such concern?" Lord Erymen asked with a thoughtful and a concerned look that was casted at the other seven.

Tharnor this time smirked broadly, while he had remained uncharacteristically quiet up until that point. "Lady Amarthel, The Mouth of Mandos, The Doom Witch, The Black Omen, what ever people call her nowadays. She's unwanted company to many: elf, man, dwarf, troll, goblin, orc. While some, like Lord Elrond, could predict events yet to come, it is Lady Amarthel who is cursed with seeing the death and doom to anyone she casts her eyes on. If you believe such superstitions."

Erymen's eyes went wide, being that he was the youngest out of the eight who sat, had only limited knowledge of other elves outside of the Woodland Realm. He was a silvan elf, barely an adult during the events of the War of the Last Alliance. "The Doom Witch? I had thought those were only stories," Erymen turned to Eithron, who looked thoroughly annoyed at Tharnor's blasé.

"Stories, superstitions," Eithron scoffed, "Chancellor Tharnor, your disregard for this is a problem in itself."

"I have only heard of this women in tales, as if she was a scary story to ensure obedience in elflings," Tharnor leaned back in his chair, lacing his fingers on his chest. "Why should I believe that she is truly a threat when the stories have strong embellishments?"

"Lord Tharnor," Arahael turned to him. "You were young, a stewart to the then Prince Thranduil, and so I forgive your ignorance. The wretchedness that happened to Lady Amarthel may have been forgotten, though it still haunts hearts closest to her. Sauron ensnared her, used her gifts to his advantage. In his spell, she pointed to those who were doomed to die. She pointed to King Oropher and King Amdír during the Battle of Dagorlad. At last in the Siege of Barad-dûr she pointed to Anárion, and to Elendil the Tall." Arahael then gave a great, silent sigh of sadness, "Then, she pointed to the ellon who loved her most: Gil-galad."

Eithron scoffed again, causing the ancient eyes of Arahael to turn to him, "Amarthel was not ensnared by magic. She went to Sauron on her own free will," he nodded to Nestassel "My lady will vouch for me. She was her cousin, and knows her better than anyone here."

The lady in question looked thoroughly restless, conflicted between the versions of the story. "It is true that my cousin was strange. When we were studying together, she would know before anyone else when an animal was ready to die, with or without our help. She was drawn to death like a moth to the flame, and I _do_ believe that Amarthel was drawn to Sauron just as so… But I do believe in her love for Gil-galad. She was under a spell when she whispered the deaths to Sauron… and when I came face-to-face with her in battle, she fought…" Nestassel blinked rapidly, her eyes begining to swell with tears at the memory. After recollecting herself, she continued, "She fought against his will. None of you were there… I saw the madness that gripped her mind, and I was the one that drew her out of the dark and back into the light."

Eithron's sharp face softened only a fraction, his eyes shifting to the table, and for once he was rendered speechless. The table was speechless for the longest time, as the ghosts of the past whispered into the ears of everyone in the room.

Galion spoke after the beat of bleak silence, his brow furrowed in seriousness, "What shall we do, _Aran nîn_? Do we allow them entrance to your Halls?"

Thranduil's eyes shifted from the centre of the compass to his butler, his face a painting of melancholy. "It goes without saying that the presence of Lady Amarthel is an ill omen to Mirkwood. She has not left the Grey Havens since Sauron's defeat, out of shame and prejudice of others. She would not come here for no other reason but to warn us of doom ahead… and for that fact alone, all opinions of her are moot. She, and her nephew Núron will be welcomed into my Halls with the highest of honours."

Though the topic changed in the council room shortly after, it was evident that all minds were lingering on the coming doom that was riding from the west. He, too, remembered Amarthel in the War of the Last Alliance, and the look upon Gil-Galad's face when he watched her gaze fall on him with emptiness. He also watched her walk among the bodies of the fallen, bare footed and sparsely garbed, crying so heavily that he was sure the marshes were made of the blood of the fallen and her never ending tears. Despite never conversing with the elleth, Thranduil knew her heart was filled with guilt and ghosts, much like his own. Her appearance here was likely no easy decision on her part, and he wondered if she was attempting a redemption. Though Núron's motives were also questionable, and Thranduil couldn't help but feel in his gut that old wounds will be open soon.

Once the meeting was concluded, the members of the Privy Counsil left to their own affairs, save for Galion who lingered next to him after Tharnor left. The Chancellor shared a look with the King, one that would speak volumes between close friends. Once he had left, Galion turned to his King, his hands wringing together like a worried man.

"Do you truly think this is wise, my lord? To allow that…to allow Lady Amarthel here, when there are still those who remember and resent her for her betrayal?"

"If any subjects of mine have problems with the presence of Lady Amarthel, then they could relay them to me, personally. I appreciate your concern for the Realm, Galion, but it is not the Lady that we will have trouble with. If I had to wager on either guest, it will be her nephew that will cause an estrangement of some kind."

"It _is_ strange," Galion mused, his hands falling to his sides. "Of all those who would escort her here, Núron would have been the last to have offered. As I understand it, she has keepers, and other family members. My lord, do you suppose this has to do with…?"

Thranduil clenched his jaw and looked at his butler from the corner of his eye, which was all he needed to say. Gallon nodded and excused himself, leaving Thranduil with his thoughts.

 _I cannot run away from that shadow, no matter how far I go._

* * *

"She remains in Mithlond, the Grey Havens, as it is the closest she can get to Gil-Galad," Maeleth explained.

Arielle had finally gotten Maeleth to explain who Amarthel was, which intrigued and confused her all the same. In her mind, she kept on asking herself how was this even possible… There was no Amarthel in the books, not even a hint of one. She began to question the actual storyline she had known, and if it would remain true now.

"Why won't she sail west?"

"She won't say why," Maeleth explained, looking at the tea in her hands. "My father suspects that she believes the Valar will reject her entrance, and she won't be welcomed. My mother believed that she feels ashamed to show her face there, to look upon the faces whose deaths she caused, namely Gil-Galad."

 _Or maybe because Sauron isn't dead,_ Arielle found herself thinking, a pit of dread forming in her stomach. She hadn't thought about Sauron until this conversation, and the rising doom that was fast approaching. It was only a matter of weeks before Gandalf will discover the growing darkness coming from Dol Guldur, and reveal the true identity of the Necromancer.

"There is something that I don't quite understand," Arielle began as a thought came to her. "If Amarthel could predict the deaths of those that were going to die, then their deaths weren't her fault. They were doomed to perish in the wars, whether Sauron knew of it or not."

Maeleth tilted her head and shook it, "It is much more complicated. Lord Elrond once told me that fate is determined by the choices we make, and sometimes it is too late to change the course of fate if the path has already been well traveled into. So, sometimes, possible futures are lost before they could be fixed. Amarthel chose to seek out Sauron out of her curiosity for the dark, and before she could change her mind, it was too late. What she saw were the deaths that she directed herself, because of the path she chose. She hadn't predicted that Sauron would play her like a puppet. If she hadn't sought him out, those that died may still walk with us today."

Arielle scrunched up her face after she tried to process that, "I don't know if I entirely understand that."

Maeleth laughed and shook her head, "Think on it, if you wish. Just know that Amarthel's path affected more than just her own."

Arielle remained quiet as she sipped her tea, deep in her own thoughts that she didn't even notice the thoughtful look on Maeleth's face when she looked around the empty living quarters. The flowers had been removed, save for a modest vase with a couple of blue roses.

"I only just noticed," Maeleth began to talk, snapping Arielle out of her thoughts. "Tharnor hasn't done anything today to gain your attention."

"Perhaps he is scheming for tomorrow," Arielle suggested idly, sipping her tea.

The older elleth rolled her eyes and lifted her feet up onto the sofa and lounged, "Eru, I hope not. Which reminds me, we have that… _raid_ ," she sighed when she said that, "With Tauriel's team tomorrow. You best be ready on time, because I suspect it will be a very long, very early day."

"I'm fully prepared. Are you?" Arielle rose an eyebrow.

"I'll be with the archers… Which includes Legolas," her small smile didn't go unnoticed, even though she tried to hide it behind her teacup.

"Have you attempted to find someone to make him jealous with?" Arielle asked.

"No," she said a bit disappointingly. "He seems to get along with everyone, it's almost insufferable."

The thief snorted, "He butts heads with his father quite a bit, perhaps it is him you should entangle—" Arielle was interrupted by a propelling silk pillow being whipped in her face.

" _You're_ absolutely insufferable," she scoffed. "I hope you jest, because that is absolutely out of the question for many reasons." Arielle merely shrugged, her teeth sinking into a lemon tart nonchalantly. Maeleth narrowed her eyes at her, and then continued, "Besides, at how familiar you've become with the _Aran_ , I would have to guess that _you_ are the one that wants entangle with him."

Arielle paused halfway shoving the lemon tart into her mouth, and then her eyes shifted to Maeleth. With her levelled stare, she began to chew slowly, swallow, and then said in a very flat tone: "I do not know what you're talking about."

"Uh huh," Maeleth quirked an eyebrow.

It was Arielle's turn to narrow her eyes at the other elleth, "What happened to the impropriety of a polyamorist way of life?"

"Ah, well, you've made it _very_ clear that you do not believe in such traditions, so it isn't absurd to assume that you'd be interested in a married ellon."

"He's not married—"

"In the eyes of the Valar he is still married—"

"Please don't get into that rant again," Arielle closed her eyes, feeling herself already getting exasperated by the looming lecture of elvish marriage laws.

Maeleth sipped her tea, and there was a moment of complete silence. Suddenly, she asked, "Do you find him at all attractive?"

"I'm going to meditate," Arielle sat up, putting her empty teacup on the table and turned to her bedchamber.

Maeleth, though, seemed utterly amused by her ward's stubbornness. "Would you at least admit to that question, Lionheart?"

"Not even the oldest elfish wine will loosen my tongue enough to admit to anything that isn't true," Arielle said before closing the door behind her.

Maeleth remained lounging on the couch, a wide smile grin on her face. She raised the cup to her lips and took a sip before laying it on the saucer she held, "That's good to know."

* * *

Maeleth wasn't joking when she said it would be an early and long day. Arielle found her meditation being disturbed by the sudden appearance of a chipper looking Rhovanor. Taken back, Arielle flinched at the unexpected appearance of the hunter, and then furrowed her brow, "Bloody hell, where did you come from?"

He laughed, "Maeleth told me that I should 'bring you back to the real world', before we're tardy."

Arielle growled and rolled her eyes, "Remind me to repay her for that." She sat up and stretched out her spine. "You can leave, you know, I'm about to get dressed."

"Oh! Right! Hurry up, then. Tauriel and her company are waiting at the castle gates."

Matching guard armour was provided for Maeleth and Arielle both the day prior after they had been properly measured, and the right sizes were adjusted to their form. It was much more restricting than Arielle's thief armour, but she supposed that was because there were more protection in the hard boiled leather and the scale mail. It didn't take long for her to get ready, and within ten minutes, Arielle, Maeleth, _and_ Rhovanor were hurrying down the corridors and reaching the gates.

There were two dozen elves in Tauriel's party, including Legolas, Arielle, Maeleth, Rhovanor, Faeldir, Gwaedhon, and herself. She divided into groups of four, into separate units. The archers, which included Maeleth, Legolas, Faeldir, and three others, would be safely hidden in the trees. The defence ranks, which consisted of six large looking ellons that looked like thick redwood. The offence, the ones who will be charging into the nest, consisted of Tauriel, Gwaedhon, a rather curious looking ellon that stuck out like a sore thumb with relatively short hair and a stubble, two other ellyn, and an elleth. Then there were the distraction squad, which was Tauriel's kind way of saying _the bait._ Arielle and Rhovanor, and four other sorry souls were lucky enough to be put in this group.

During the trek through the nest of spiders, Tauriel had explained the plan. First, the distraction group will draw out the spiders, notably the larger ones ( _Fuck my life),_ the archers will shoot down the smaller ones, who were faster. Then the defence will aid the distraction by taking down the fast approaching assailants. Then lastly, the offence will take the nest. The female, the biggest one, would most likely catch up on what is happening, and will return to the nest to protect her eggs.

The groups began to spit to their positions, and that was when Arielle got nervous. She looked at Rhovanor, "Is there anything I should know?"

"Stay away from the webs. If you get caught in them, don't use a blade, it will only get stuck. Use your flint and steel to make a fire, and try to make a torch — that is the best weapon for both web and spider." He turned to her and grinned, "And be quick about it, before the pincers get you." he mimicked the spider's pincers with his fingers.

Arielle gave him a dry look. "If it comes between you and me, I'll trip you."

"That's reassuring, thank you."

After an hour of walking, the forest grew darker, more silent and sinister. There was a sense of dread and impending disaster with every step. The gentle flow of the Enchanted River was barely heard, as haunting as it already was. Rhovanor lead the group, being head hunter he knew the forest better than the rest. With them was another elleth, and three other ellyn; the elleth was clearly silvan, from her chestnut hair, green eyes, and olive skin. Two of the ellyn had dirty blonde hair, and appeared to be twins with only minor differences to their face, and the other ellon had dark orange hair in a loose pony tail and a tanner appearance. Names were exchanged, but like most of the people Arielle was briefly introduced to and never saw again, she didn't bother to remember them.

"Right there," Rhovanor paused between a split tree. It wasn't hard to see the dirty white nest of nastiness a few yards away from where they hid. There was some movement, spiders already seen moving along the silk threads as it wrapped up a dozen rats. "It's been growing bigger over the winter. The female bred already, but the eggs haven't hatched," Rhovanor turned to look at his group. The archers were already in the trees, and the other groups were in position to intervene.

"Hador," Rhovanor looked at the twin with the two-ended spade. "You take the left flank, the spider nested there is bigger, with longer legs, keep him at a distance with your spade. Harndir," Rhovanor turned to the other twin, who had the bow. "You will shoot the first arrow, it will direct their attention to us. Try to aim for the female, we need to draw her out most of all." The two twins nodded and went to their positions. The hunter turned to the ginger ellon that looked like he was born with an unwavering pissed off face, "Belton, you take right flank. There are smaller spiders there, but they are fast, less clumsy. Draw them out so the archers have better shots at them." Belton nodded and left, which left the two only ellith.

"Círel, Arielle, a majority of the males will be coming to protect the female. Defence will have us, but we've got centre. We've got to rush them out so the female is vulnerable for Tauriel, and the eggs are unprotected. A lot of them are going to go after us, so be fast, be limber, and keep your weapon at hand."

Círel nodded, her face stoic and almost indifferent. Arielle was envious by her ease, since her own face spoke volumes.

Rhovanor smiled at her and clasped her shoulder, "You'll do fine. Don't get bitten."

Then they waited, five minutes before a single arrow was shot through the thrush and plunged into the exoskeleton of one of the largest things Arielle has ever seen walking on more than four legs. A great screech came and then all hell broke loose. The female was partially hidden under a huge fallen tree overtaken by webs. It looked like a funnel inside, though the creature was so large that the front legs were poking out of the mouth. Once it emerged the bulbous body was exposed, and Arielle did all she could to concentrate. On the female's abdomen were the eggs, spotting her back in disorganized rows; the sight nearly made the elleth hurl. If she didn't have trypophobia before, she did now.

It was too late to react to the hideous creature, because they had to move. Rhovanor's hand gripping her arm reminded her that it was time to high tail out of there. The ground began to shake as the female was drawn out, screeching and roaring, being downright pissed off.

Arielle quickly forgot her disgust and her nervousness, because now she was on survival mode. This was no different than her car chases back home, except there was no gunfire, and she was on foot, not in a car with protection. With her short swords in both hands, she had separated from Rhovanor and Círel, but she knew she wasn't alone. An eight-legged cretin from hell was hot on her ass, but Arielle was lithe, she could easily fit through narrow spaces, and was infinitely a smaller target. Still, spiders are fast, regardless of size, and have an arsenal of their own, which Arielle was promptly reminded of. She heard an ugly hiss, and something wet and heavy flew past her head and landed in the truck of a tree that she flew behind.

The forest was full of hisses and the scurrying of dozens of legs and large bodies breaking down both dying and young trees. In a quick decision while hiding behind the protection of the tree, Arielle twisted her ring so the stone was facing her palm and in an instant she was gone. The spider sprung past the tree and began clicking irritably when it could no longer see her. It's pincers grabbed the air in a vain attempt to smell her out, but to no avail; Arielle was smoke. It pivoted around, it's large body hovering 3 feet above the ground as it balanced itself on the spot. Even though it would not be able to hear her breathing, Arielle found herself trying to calm down her heavy breaths. She stared at the thick sparse hair sprouting from its exoskeleton in utter disgust. It wasn't as ugly as the female, but spiders in general weren't gorgeous creatures, and the ones that resided in Mirkwood were worse in appearance.

Killing wasn't Arielle's forte, she already had a hard time subduing people with her small frame, or even knocking someone out with the maneuvers that Bellamy had taught her years ago. Though none of those maneuvers could be played on something like _this_ , so that explained Arielle's hesitance before she decided that she needed to get close to thing to kill it.

"Nyx, give me strength," she found herself whisper before pouncing on the back of the spider. The creature buckled at the sudden and unexpected weight, and began screeching. It's legs shuffling frantically, and it's front ones arching in an attempt to get what was on it's back. Though it couldn't reach, nor would it be able to touch anything. Arielle held on it around the middle, trying to keep it herself on its back as it freaked out. The spider tried everything it could to shake off what was on it, which included slamming its body against a tree, knocking the wind out of her. After the third slam, she finally decided to get this over with, and pulled out her dagger from her thigh and slammed it into the head. It screamed shrilly, its legs flailing out wildly before it slumped on the floor.

Arielle, breathing heavily, pulled out the dagger from it's head, sticking out her tongue as she fought back the throw up. The blood was black, thick, with a hue of green when it thinned and had little flecks of red. She wiped it on it's back and stepped off, sheathing her weapon and then turning her ring back to reappear.

With a sigh she turned around, but she found herself staring into two large black orbs of multiple eyes, all peering at her from above her in the trees. The legs stuck out in a way that they were easily mistaken for branches, but the pincers moved curiously, with the venom dripping down to the dead grass below. Instantly Arielle put her hand on her short sword and unsheathed it, and the sound aggravated the spider instantly, and in retaliation, it spat at her. In that instant Arielle made to leap out of the way, but the sticky acidic web was able to land partially on her face.

Nothing in her life had burned so much than that. Unexpected by the pain, she let out a shrilled scream that turned into a growl of aggression. Arielle swung her sword, cleanly chopping off the spider's pincers, who then screeched as loudly as she did. The chase began once again, this time Arielle wasn't as graceful with the acid eating into the flesh of her face. She attempted to take off the gooey substance, but then only yelped when it burned through her gloves and onto her fingers. The act had distracted her enough that she did not put priority in where her feet were landing, because the next thing she knew, her ankle got caught in a root and she fell face first into a tangle of gnarled roots.

Hearing the dooming thumps of the many legged spider, Arielle scrambled to get herself back on her feet, but it was too late. She felt it behind her, and when she turned around she saw the legs rise in the air, ready to pierce into her fragile body. But it didn't. In that last second, a whiz passed her head and hit into the abdomen of the spider, causing it to stagger. More arrows followed, sending the creature screeching backwards and landing on it's back. It squirmed in a vain attempt to get back up, but with one final arrow, its misery ended.

"Arielle!" Legolas' voice came like a heavenly beacon of hope, and soon he came to her side and helped her up. "The queen is dead… Rhovanor told me that he lost sight of you — your face!"

Arielle's face was twisted in pain, her mind barely registering what the prince was talking about. Though she did hear his exclamation, which made her wince. "How bad is it?"

Legolas' hesitation told her all she needed to know. She still had her eyesight, even though the gunk landed partially over her the corner of her eye, it did not go over her eyelid. Still, she kept that eye closed.

Legolas' grip on her tightened, "We need to get you to a healer."

* * *

 **Oh god, I forgot how much stuff happens in this chapter. A lot to take in. A lot of people to meet. I'm hoping you read the author's note above. If so, I hope you weren't totally confused by the Council meeting. I tried my best to explain it without overbearing you guys with a truck load of information.**

 **Anyway, the pictures of the Council, their names and positions are on the Pinterest, as well as a dollmaker render of the ~*distraction squad*~.**

 **Happy Readings xoxox**

 **qtj**


	14. xiii - Her Imperfect Reflection

**King and Lionheart**

* * *

 **TRANSLATIONS**

 _Quel esta, hiril vuin - rest well, my lady_

 _Gift of Man - is death_

 _Diola lle, mellon nîn - thank you, my friend_

 _Lle creoso_ \- you're welcome

 _Tenna' san' - until then_

 **CASTING FOR THIS CHAPTER**

Travis Fimmel as _Arradir/West_

 **REVIEW REPLIES**

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 **The scene you're looking for is near the end of this chapter dear ;)**

Guest _chapter 13 . Nov 20_

 **I'm super flattered :) And I'm really grateful that you enjoy Arielle, and don't see her as a mary sue. That's one of my fears when making characters.**

* * *

 **CHAPTER XIII  
** _Her Imperfect Reflection_

* * *

Thranduil was in his library, drinking a sweet wine and mulling over that letter again, when Tauriel all but kicked open the door and began to talk a mile a minute. He immediately sat up and glided to her, his robes flourishing at the quick movements when he approached her.

"At ease, captain," his face was grim when he saw the disheveled and somewhat guilty look on her face, as if this was all her doing. Thranduil suddenly felt like he was staring into the face of his daughter who was about to confess that she had broken an old family vase. Though vases could be mended, and given that Tauriel was supposed to be raiding the nearest spider's nest the entire day, he knew that her sudden appearance was meant to bring him much dire news. His imagination ran wild at what could have happened, and he already was forming the sharp lecture on the tip of his tongue.

" _Aran nîn_ , forgive me, it was my choice to invite her," her statement caught him off guard. He knitted his eyebrows until he remembered that Maeleth and her ward, Arielle, were going with the Captain and her squad of guards to the raid. Maeleth — he knew was formidable with a bow, and fair with a sword as any elf maiden, but despite Arielle's promise of her being experienced, he doubted that she would last long alone in the face of Mirkwood's spiders.

He found his heart beat quicken at the implication of what could happen to the _dess_ , though he didn't entirely understand why. Sure, he grew somewhat fond of her, though he was still rather wary of her presence, her informality, and frankly she could be quite annoying.

With a clenched jaw, he questioned, "What happened to her? Did you get her killed? Tauriel, I trusted you with the well being of my guests — "

"She is alive, _Aran Thranduil_ , forgive me again. I put her with Rhovanor in distraction—"

"You did what?! You put a _child_ , inexperienced with the dangers of this wood in the most dangerous position? Have you lost all sense?" He felt his anger rise to the tip of his ears, and he loomed over her, causing Tauriel to shrink. Angering the king wasn't ideal with all kingdoms, but when the Elvenking of Mirkwood was angered, his cheek would quiver, and the shade that concealed his past would fade. It was a frightful sight, and luckily the Captain was spared this sight at this moment.

"It was irrational of me, I know… though she was true to her word. She is incredibly fast and nimble… she did well in her position, though I did not anticipate her to travel so far. We had killed the female, eggs were burnt, many of the males were killed, and the others fled to the next nest. When it was safe to burn the webs, Rhovanor could not find her, so I sent scouts to find her, hoping that I didn't find her body. Instead Legolas found the corpse of a spider — she had killed it by herself, a wound in the head that could not have been there, unless she jumped the monster herself," Thranduil had to admit to himself, that detail did surprise him. It was an act of either bravery or stupidity that so far none of his kin had dared tried.

"If she is alive, and if she did kill a spider herself, then what brings you in a hurry to me?"

She licked her lip, "She didn't come out completely unscathed. Legolas saved her from being killed, though not before another spider had spat his venom on her, and burnt the side of her face."

Thranduil's face turned back to cold stone, though despite knowledge of there being no casualties, the news didn't calm his anger towards his captain of guard and her foolish decision. Tauriel's hadn't anticipated for Rhovanor to be leaving Arielle's side, or anyone else's. She had already yelled at the hunter when he returned without Maeleth's ward. Maeleth, upon seeing the disappearance of Arielle, yelled at _both_ Tauriel and Rhovanor, and Legolas promptly went to search for her, bringing in tow a few scouts.

Arielle had travelled a mile and a half, Legolas had told her when they brought her into the Halls. In such a short amount of time, Tauriel had thought travelling that far would be impossible without horse, but she supposed that the elleth wasn't lying at all when she said she was quick on her feet. The captain regretted what happened to her, but it was obvious that it was her best position. It was just bad luck. Even so, Tauriel took the blame for everything, even if it was out of anyone's hands.

When they reached the Healer's Wing, Nestassel, the head healer was already sitting at a cot and hovering over a body. There were only a couple of other injured guards, none among them was his son, or Lady Maeleth. There were others that suffered from the venomous burns, though they had only touched arms or legs. They were being patched up by the other healers, but it was Arielle who held Lady Nestassel's attention most of all, which made Thranduil's face turn grave.

"How is she?" Thranduil asked as he approached the cot. He had passed Maeleth and Legolas in a swift motion without giving them much regard, which Legolas found strange. The Mirkwood Prince found it odd at the urgency he held for the elleth, despite only knowing her for a little over a week.

"Alive. I gave her poppy milk, so she is sleeping, and it is best she stay that way until I am done with the wound." Nestassel didn't look up at her king, far too engrossed in her work to remove the sticky substance that had sunk into her flesh and threatened her bones.

"And the damage done?"

"Her eye is untouched, thank Estë, but her cheek, the stem of her ear, and the side of her head just above it have been inflicted. It burnt off her hair there, the flesh of her cheek, and there is bone showing. She will have a nasty scar once healed, even after the restoration spells," Lady Nestassel continued to clean out the gaping wound that Thranduil was now looking at. It was really bad, though he had seen worse, namely on himself. She at least obtained her sight, though he didn't know how she would take to having a disfigured face once the procedure was finished.

"When the flesh has healed, and the scarring has started, call for me," Thranduil told her, and the Healer nodded.

"As you wish, _Aran nîn,_ " Nestassel already knew what his plan was, though she still had a knit in her brow at the concerning question: _why_. Why waste such magic on an elleth he barely knew, or was inconsequential to him and the kingdom? Once Maeleth leaves, taking her ward with her, her memory would only be recalled if her name was brought up in conversation, which it likely never will.

* * *

It was five days since Arielle had been emitted in the Healing Wing, and she had already grown stir-crazy by the third day. Lady Nestassel refused to let her out of the Wing, and limited her company to only Lady Maeleth, Legolas, Tauriel, her new hand-maid, Fogwen, and the Elvenking himself. The latter hadn't visited at all, not to Arielle's knowledge. Her unacknowledged disappointment of the Elvenking's absence was replaced for a bitter resentment for her keeper, Lady Nestassel, who was like a vigilante Norwegian Forest Cat, guarding her viking's plunder.

The only thing she was thankful for when it came to the Healer, was her bluntness. She had given her a mirror when she woke up, and to Nestassel's confusion, Arielle exclaimed promptly after seeing her reflection: "I look like bloody Two-Face." The Healer decided not to ask, so she went on to explain that her bandages and salve will be changed twice a day, which will make sure to kill any infection caused by the acidic spit. Then before bed, a spell would be made upon her face to quicken the healing process, and make the scaring less than it would have been. Arielle supposed she thanked for elvish magic, otherwise she would _really_ look like two-face.

That afternoon, Maeleth and Legolas kept her company at the Healing Wing and played cards with her at a table next to her cot. Nestassel hadn't visited her that morning, so her bandages had not yet been removed (another healer would have done it, but the Head Healer made sure no one but her touched Arielle's face).

Looking at her cards with one eye, she furrowed her brows at her hand. It was pathetic hand, like her situation, but she tried to make the best of it. "I suppose there is one positive thing to come out of my face," she mused out loud, earning the glances of her two friends.

"Add to your collection of scars?" Maeleth asked, which earned her a glare.

" _No,_ " Arielle rolled her eye, but then considered it. _Well yeah._ "Lord Tharnor will no longer find me attractive. Perhaps he will leave me alone."

The comment did earn a smile from them both, though Legolas' was more rueful, "I'm afraid not. He's been trying to see you since news reached his ears."

Maeleth scoffed, "I would have thought he would move on by now."

Arielle then recalled the blonde elleth in his bed that night she snuck in. She, herself, couldn't understand why he tried so hard when he obviously had someone to warm his bed already. Then again, Arielle recalled the conversation she had with Thranduil when he mentioned an elleth that he and Tharnor presumed, like a game, a challenge that they wanted to conquer. Was that what she was to Tharnor? Truth be told, she _would_ have ended up sharing a bed with him (for her own reasons, of course), if he wasn't such a douche canoe. Still, there was the matter of finding that diamond shaped key to open his safe, and she had an inkling that it was on his person at all times. Which meant that she would have to see him again, and get close to him _again_.

Legolas concurred with Maeleth, "It is true… I have never seen Tharnor so ensnared with an elleth. Granted, he is very competitive, so the only explanation for his unwavering desire for Lady Arielle is that there is another ellon that is vying for her affections."

Maeleth's eyebrow quirked, and Arielle… well Arielle stared at her cards, Legolas' words almost lost on her until they fully registered. "What?"

At that moment, there was a fuss at the door between a Healer, and someone trying to get through the entrance.

"I am sorry, Lady Nestassel has limited access to the Healing Wing—"

"Lady Nestassel has allowed me entrance," came a masculine voice that Arielle was not familiar with, but from Legolas' sudden disgruntled expression, _he_ did.

"I find that hard— _m'lord_!"

The sound of boots walking across the floor made Legolas practically fly out of his chair and meet the ellon nose-to-nose. The prince didn't look all-too-thrilled at the appearance of the strange looking elf. It was hard to forget this ellon, though Arielle hadn't caught his name. She remembered him on Tauriel's team, the one elf with the stubble and short hair.

"Arradir, you don't have permission to be here," Legolas stated, using himself as a barrier between the healing elleth, and Arradir, who had the most gorgeous blue eyes.

The ellon smirked at the Mirkwood prince, shifting a box he had been carrying from under his shoulder and into both hands. "I have a gift for Lady Arielle, as requested by his Majesty, _Aran Thranduil_ ," he lifted his eyebrows, looking over to the table where the two ellith sat, "Made by yours truly; a gift for showing exceptional bravery in defending the Woodland Realm."

"A gift?" Arielle leaned over to her side to look around Legolas, who was blocking her view. "Legolas, move aside, I got a present."

Arielle's reaction made Arradir's smirk widen, but made Legolas' nostrils flare. With a gritted jaw (that looked a lot like Thranduil), he stepped aside. Maeleth caught the eye of Arradir, and while her thoughts were on something specific a moment ago, she couldn't help but notice the slight wink he gave her, which made her heart flutter a bit and completely forget herself. Shortly after that, she caught Legolas' disapproving look, and _immediately_ deduced who the Prince's least favourite person was.

"Lady Arielle, it is with great honour," Arradir began as he placed the box on the table in front of her, "to present to you a gift from _Aran Thranduil Oropherion,_ for your show of bravery in defending his realm and his people." It was a bit showy, Arielle thought. All she did was run and kill a spider, but judging by the fuss Tauriel and everyone else was giving her, it was a bit more than that.

He lifted the box lid, and inside were two arm-length fighting knives in elfish make. They were much like Legolas' own fighting knives, though instead of a golden wooden handle, it was black petrified wood, with painted gold designs, and a gold design on the blade. Etched near the shoulder of both blades were the word " _Rawien"._

Arielle marvelled at them, knowing that these are the finest blades she had ever had the privilege to own. Her own were single-edged double short swords, made by man, but stolen by her. They were reliable, but their steal would worn down easily. An Elfish blade didn't need much maintenance, it was lighter, and would last infinitely longer.

"Oh, wow," the elleth picked one up and marvelled it, her finger moving over the designs and over the inscription. She looked at Maeleth, and asked, "What does _Rawien_ mean?"

Maeleth had a small smile when she answered, "It means daughter of the lion."

 _This is never going to end,_ Arielle thought, but those thoughts were pushed to the side when she examined the gift given to her. She looked up at Arradir, "I don't know if I deserve this. All I did was run."

"You did more than that, Arielle. You risked your life by jumping on a spider… I've never met someone bold and brave enough to go any closer than sword's length. What's more, you did it for a kingdom that you were not obligated to risk your life for… And therefore, King Thranduil is thankful for your sacrifice."

"Well, I wish he had come to me so I can thank him properly, instead through a third party," Arielle sheathed the knife in her hand and gently placed it back into the box.

"I'll be sure to tell him of your gratitude," he said before Legolas took a formidable stance in front of him again.

"My father will be visiting fairly soon… And now, _this_ visit is over. Arradir, you may leave."

Arradir stood there for a moment, sharing a look with the prince before looking over to Arielle and nodding, " _Quel esta, hiril vuin._ " He turned Maeleth, and his smile widened before bowing his head, "Lady Maeleth." The three watched him leave, an annoyed healer following after him, throwing a finger at his back as she gave him a lecture in Sindarin.

Once her voice was muffled out by the closed door behind her, Legolas returned to his seat, "Insufferable."

"He's quite the character," Arielle mused as she took the box and examined her gift once more. "Never met an elf like him."

Maeleth tilted her head to her, "I have. She is sitting in front of me."

Arielle rolled her eyes, and Legolas shook his head. "Give your ward some credit — she at least has manners. Arradir, after all these years, has not learn prosperity. He looks more man, than elf."

The thief rose an eyebrow, "Was he raised by men too?"

"Yes, but not for the same reason as you. His mother was a mortal woman, and his father a soldier of Rivendell. His story is romanticized by many, but the child conceived in such a tail does not live up to expectations," there was a bitterness in his tone, and Arielle wondered if Arradir was as bad as Legolas made him to be.

"What's this great romance?"

"Elves do not generally conceive children during times of war, though during the Angmar War, one exception was made when Arradir's father met a warrior maiden who he fought side-by-side. Conceiving children is a conscious act between elves, and the ellon soldier was far too young to know how the race of man are not the same. Their marriage was a secret, of course, but it didn't take long for her to show that she was with child, so she fled. Arradir's father didn't know of his son, not even when he died in battle two hundred years later. Arradir was raised by men, who called him West at the time, until Elrond located him and took him in as a ward for a millennium. West was named Arradir once he chose immortality over the Gift of Man."

"And what turned him into a cheeky imp?" Arielle's question at least made Legolas smile.

"Circumstance, I suppose. I cannot say, but he walks around the Halls as if he is the king himself, which I greatly disapprove. If it weren't for him being such a skilled warrior and blacksmith, my father would have him sent back to Imladris long ago."

Maeleth was being awfully quiet, and it really only took a shared look before Arielle caught on to what the older elleth was thinking. Legolas was oblivious to the shared look. After the fighting knives were gently placed on top of the cot, the game resumed for another twenty minutes before Legolas had to depart. Then shortly after Maeleth, after they shared a few hushed words together about Arradir and Operation: Make the Greenleaf Greener.

When Arielle was alone, she was examining the knives once again. They were truly beautiful, and so light and graceful that she couldn't wait to break them in…or preserve them, at least. They looked so delicate that despite knowing otherwise, that she was afraid they would break or scratch.

Lady Nestassel came into the healing room at last, and made a beeline towards her. Instinctively, Arielle sat next to the box on her cot and tilted her face to the side so the Healer could get to work. The first thing Nestassel did was gingerly peel back the gauze, and examined the cloth. She found no red residue, but only the slickness of the salve. The scarring healed her face nicely, without any problems. She was the Head Healer for a reason, which is why Thranduil made sure to only have her work on Arielle; to ensure no mistakes were made by an ill experienced healer.

"How's it looking?" Arielle asked, her eye blinking in the light once it was exposed.

"The scar has sealed all open wounds, and you're starting to get your normal colour. And, I think —" Her brow knitted at that moment as she peeled the entire thing off, her hand grazing her scalp where it was also scared. There was peach fuzz for hair that began to grow on better parts of her scalp, just around the scar where her hairline near her ear was. That wasn't much of a surprise, elf hair grew fast, so peach fuzz after a couple of days wasn't new. What puzzled Nestassel was something else. "Your hair is starting to grow back… Though, it is an entirely different colour."

"What?" Arielle reached up, but her hand was smacked out of way as Nestassel continued to fuss with her face. "What colour?"

"White, silver… it is very light, and therefore very faint. It _is_ possible that the venom had bleached that spot of hair, though I've never seen anything like it." She continued to squint at it before standing up straight and left to get a towel to dab off the left over salve.

"Will it go back to brown?" Arielle reached over and felt the fuzz as well as the bump of her scars. She winced at both. If she was a dwarf, such a scar would be endearing, it would probably attract a lot of eligible bachelors. Though she worried that it would frighten away Tharnor, which is the exact opposite of what she needed at that moment. Also, there was another ellon she didn't want to chase away with her face either, but that was a subconscious worry. Arielle hadn't fully realized exactly who's opinion she worried over most.

"We will have to wait and see when it grows out, which will take about a fortnight. Not even Thranduil's concealing magic won't regrow your hair, so you will have to live with that for the time being," Nestassel returned with a wet towel and began to clean the scar from any grease and sweat.

Arielle shut that eye while she did it, but her knitted brow was mostly from the Healer's statement. "Thranduil's going to conceal my scar?"

"Yes. It is old magic that he had learned from his father, and his father before him. He, himself, used it —" She cleared her throat, stopping herself from giving information that wasn't hers to give. Though that piqued Arielle's interest all the same. "He will come later once you're cleaned up to conceal it, so you won't be walking around his Halls looking like… What was it that you said? Dual-face?"

"Two-face," Arielle corrected after she suppressed a huge grin on her face. She decided before Nestassel could ask, to make up a lie about it. "It's a local legend about a man who had burnt half his face," she left it at that, since it wasn't as important as the question she had on her mind. "Does the king do this often? Conceal people's scars?"

"No," Nestassel stated bluntly. "It surprised me too, when he offered."

The implications of his offering made Arielle swallow, her mind racing to try to find any explanation for the rare act of kindness that he didn't even do to his own people. "Any idea why he decided to do this for me, in particular."

The Healer tossed the soiled towels into a hamper and then leaned away from her. "That is the question, isn't it? Since you're asking me, I would guess it is because you remind him of someone."

There was a hesitation before Arielle asked, "Who?"

There was a beat before Nestassel decided to answer, "Himself."

Shortly after that conversation, Nestassel forced Arielle to strip and get into the tub, where she had Fogwen scrubbed her hair like never before. Apparently, the elleth had to be pristine before the precious King could lay his dainty clean hands on her face.

After she was dried, and her hair braided — Fogwen attempted to do a side braid that would cover the bald spot, and did a decent job — Arielle was put into a plain off-white chiffon dress with leggings underneath. After the king did his miracle work on her face, she was free to leave, at last. The first thing she intended to do was write in her journal, which she hadn't done for nearly a week.

After a few moments of sitting in the chair next to her bed, Thranduil at last entered the Healing Wing. He didn't turn to her just yet, but first met with Nestassel at the door, long enough for Arielle to enjoy the shape of his profile. He's face turned to her, and caught her staring, which was when Arielle realized she was openly gawking at the King, so she quickly looked away.

Thranduil didn't seem to mind nor notice, but he did swept over to her and then looked over his shoulder, "Leave us." Nestassel, Fogwen and the other healers left at his command. Arielle was their only patient after the rest of Tauriel's guards were already patched up and left a few days prior.

The Elvenking turned to look back at the elleth sitting before him for a moment. His face hard as he examined the damage on her face. The expression he held was stoney, hardly readable, as if he was hyper aware of controlling any indication he was reacting to her face. That thought made Arielle turn to look away, her face turning so he could only look upon her untouched side. She never had to worry about her appearance until that moment; under his scrutiny she felt utterly ugly.

Arielle jerked when she felt his hand on her chin, and force her to turn back around, this time tilting her head so the entire scar was displayed. This thumb ghosted over the beginning of the lesion, where it was unfeeling. "Stand up," he commanded, and with reluctance she did as she was told. For a moment she stood there awkwardly in front of him, caught between wanting to turn away, and wanting to look at him to see if his face would betray his emotions. Instead he guided her over to a mirror mounted on the wall, and stood her in front of it.

The elleth didn't want to look at herself, especially standing before a flawless being such as Thranduil. It was painful to look at that gnarled flesh of hers in contrast to his face, which was beautiful, smooth, and hard like the surface of white pearls. Though even when she tried to pry her eyes away from her face he would jerk her chin to look directly in the mirror, and then held it pointed foreword so she couldn't move.

"Do not waver your gaze. Look upon the scar, and visualize its disappearance," His body was just ghosting her back. She could feel his breath wafting down on the crown of her head, and she could feel his heat vibrating against her back, even through the fabric of both their garbs. It was very hard to concentrate with this close and intimate proximity, so Arielle took a deep sigh that swelled in her chest and locked eyes with herself in the mirror. Like an optical illusion, the disfigurement faded back to smooth and even skin. She didn't understand if that was the spell or not, so she remained where she was.

"Good, now don't move," her suspicions were correct, because Thranduil wasn't done. He released his hand from her chin, and slid his fingers over the scarred side until his large hand was covering half her face. His touch was firm but soft, though she scarcely felt him through the thick tissue of her disfigurement. It was enough to make her cry, since she longed to feel him, and she likely would never feel anything else on that side. Not the touch of wind, or the brush of lips.

Her worries were swept away when she felt the tingling sensation of elfish magic upon her skin. In a strange sensation, she slowly felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek, and in an involuntary moment she gave a soft sigh and a shudder. The touch of his breath on her hair felt even more prominent than before, as was his scent that filled her lungs. In an unconscious act of complete relaxation, she felt her body ease into the front of his.

Thranduil tensed when he felt her back gently lay on his chest when the elleth relaxed her muscles. Her scars were hidden, and the spell was finished, but he found himself unwilling to pull away. He was uncomfortable with his own informality. A memory flashed before him in his mind, and he quickly, as if he touched fire, retracted his hand and stepped away from Arielle.

"It's finished. The illusion will fall if you shall will it, or if you become… unhinged. Though it will always come back, and cannot be undone by anyone other than the castor, which is myself," the king threw his arms behind his back, standing stock-still, watching her face through the reflection of the mirror.

Arielle reached up to the warm spot on her now seemingly healed cheek. It was still warm from his hand, also smooth as if she never had a lesion there to begin with. She wanted to cry, but that wasn't something she normally did, especially around people. The last time she cried was when she realized she was alone, without Bellamy, in the middle of Mirkwood, and had no idea what to do with herself. Before that, she didn't really remember, but if she had to guess, it would be the day that Bellamy left the orphanage. Instead, she swallowed her tears down, dropped her hand and then slowly turned around so she was looking at him in person, rather than his reflection.

" _Diola lle, mellon nîn,_ " If this were anyone else, she would dare to give him a hug of gratitude. Though elves felt hugs too personal and intimate. There was very little physical touch among her kin, which for her, wasn't much of a problem. Though in times like these, it would be nice to hug someone. Instead, she placed her hand above her heart and bowed.

Thranduil reciprocated the gesture, " _Lle creoso_ , _mellon nîn._ "

There was a moment of silence between them as they simply stared at each other. Their previous discontent with the other person was long forgotten at that point. It had been dwindling since that day in the courtyard, but at that moment Arielle's socialist opinions against the king was forgiven and forgotten. They had a mutual respect for each other, and something else that they both swallowed down so it wouldn't be acknowledge. For Arielle, it was the begrudging fact that she was attracted to Thranduil, and for Thranduil, it was the unnerving feeling that he had seen those eyes before.

Finally Arielle torn her eyes away from him and to the box on her cot, "Oh, and…thank you for the knives. It was unnecessary, especially after —" she cleared her throat and smiled. "They're beautiful."

"I should be thanking you," he began, walking over to the cot and ghosting his hand over the blades. "You risked your life on a raid that you were not obligated to go on. You jumped a spider, four times your size, surprised it and killed it. I see now that you are formidable with proper weapons, and therefore I retract my judgements about your incompetence based solely on an unfortunate event that could be chalked up as… bad luck."

 _Also, because it never happened,_ Arielle smiled thankfully anyway. Still, she felt the gift was undeserving. She didn't kill the spider to defend his realm; she killed it because it was going to kill her. She didn't volunteer for the raid because she wanted to be an asset to the community, or any noble reason; she joined it because she was bored, and wanted to leave the Halls. And, frankly, she needed a mental schematic of the area if she needed to flee. If Arielle knew before what would result in her participating, she wouldn't have agreed to go anyway. But, she couldn't tell him the truth. Mostly because he would lose all respect for her, and because…well, she didn't want to return the fighting knives. Call her selfish, but she was a sucker for shiny and pretty.

Arielle gave him a small, slightly tight-lipped smile, "Thank you." The word was starting to sound weird, the amount of times it was said in the last four minutes.

Taking this as a moment for him to finally leave, Thranduil pulled away from the cot. "If you wish for company, I extend a dinner invitation to you. Tauriel, and the rest of her company from that day will be attending in celebration of the successful purge."

The elleth nodded, "I'd love to come."

"I am glad," he bowed his head. " _Tenna' san'."_

With a sweep of his robes, he was out of the Healing Wing, leaving Arielle to collapse onto the chair and have her hand explore her face. Everything felt completely surreal, as if she just woken up from a hyperrealistic dream. Her heart was still beating in her chest, and she could still feel his hands on her face.

* * *

 **Well... -waggles eyebrows-**

 **Sorry if this took so long. I had to update and write for my other fic, and chapter seventeen is giving me some hard time. I finished halfway and decided you guys waited long enough for chapter thirteen. Hope it was worth the wait!**

 **Is it getting fluffy in here, or is it just me?**

 **Also~ pictures in pinterest as always!**

 **Happy Readings xoxo**

 **Qtj**


	15. An Important Update

I'll keep this short, because this happened just now that I'm very depressed about. It's been a long time, i know, the cause of that is because my drive for writing was dying and it was starting to become a chore for me, so i took a very long break and had a hard time coming back from it.

But recently I wanted to come back into it. Unfortunately, today, i was cleaning up my icloud, and I didn't know that all my documents were saved in icloud. To make a long story short, all my writings have been deleted. The few that I didn't save onto icloud still are there (Somewhere Over the Rainbow is safe), but I lost about 5-6 chapters of King and Lionheart... They were all edited, too, ready to be posted. Since it's been so long, I don't remember where I left off. I have to read my story again, to figure out what I was doing. And then I gotta re write them all... keep in mind they were chapters that were like 5-6 thousand words long.

Not to mention, 2 of my original stories that I intended on making into books were also deleted, and that is the biggest blow so far. I have tried going onto the icloud website to see if I could restore the deleted files, but they're not even there!

I don't know when I'll be able to publish a new chapter, but I'm going to try to restore my own memory and try to write, though I doubt it's going to be as good as the chapters that I had written before it got deleted.

I'm sorry for the long wait, and unfortunately you may have to wait even longer as I try to write everything again off by heart...


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